Neighbors
by BluStrawberri
Summary: Phil has a new neighbor that confuses the hell out of him: One Dan Howell. Then Phil discovers that Dan is actually a decent human being and one of the most attractive boys he's ever met, albeit with a troubled past that haunts him to this day. Can Phil help Dan overcome his past and see that sometimes, happy endings DO happen? Amazingphil Danisnotonfire Phan DanxPhil Mature!


A/N: Hello, all! I'm back, with a monster of a story (at least, the most words I've ever written in a story). I decided to make this a one-shot, because I wanted it to flow into a more continuous storyline. I had so much fun with this one! I think I've definitely settled into my version of Dan and Phil's characters. Writing smut is getting so much easier for me now, though I don't know if I should be happy or mildly horrified. Either way, I think I'm improving as a writer with all of these stories I'm making. At least, I hope.

Tl;dr: I'm happy with this and I hope you are, too.

Warnings: Definite trigger for (past) abuse. Also, a generous amount of Dan flirting shamelessly and eventual smut.

OoO

Phil didn't know he had a new neighbor until he opened the door one morning and saw a package on his doorstep labeled for the apartment next to him. _Dan Howell_, he read, _Apartment 101A._ The mailman must have gotten it mixed up. It _was_ easy to do, seeing as how Phil was apartment 101_B_. Blinking back the sleep from his eyes, the ebony-haired boy picked up the box and padded down the hallway.

Phil knocked on the red door, waiting patiently for someone to open it. When it became clear that no one was home, he sighed, shrugging, and placed the package on the ground next to the welcome mat.

As soon as he turned to leave, he heard the jingle of a chain and the sound of the door being opened. He looked back and saw _the _most absolutely _gorgeous_ boy in front of him. Tall and slender, the stranger had honey-dipped skin and legs that could go on for days. He wore a black jumper and skinny jeans, and the look surprisingly suited him. Peeking out from underneath a chocolate-brown fringe, the boy's hazel eyes regarded him warily. "Can I help you?"

"Huh?" Phil asked dazedly.

The brunette raised a dark eyebrow. "I said, can I help you?"

Phil felt his cheeks burn. He had totally been caught staring like a horny schoolgirl, and this was _not_ the first impression he hoped for. _Way to go, Phil. _He suddenly remembered the package. "Yeah! I think your mail got delivered to my apartment by accident. I was just gonna give it to it's proper owner, which is apparently you."

The brunette flicked his gaze over to the package that sat innocently next to his welcome mat. "So it seems."

Both boys were silent for a moment. Phil tried to go another route, saying cheerfully, "I didn't even know I had a neighbor until I saw the box at my door. Name's Phil Lester." He held out a hand.

The boy looked at the hand with slight disdain. "Dan Howell. Now if you're quite done, I need to get back to work."

Biting back a groan of frustration, Phil continued to smile cheerily. "Well, uh, I'll get going then. Nice meeting you."

'Dan' nodded silently, peering at Phil under his fringe for a second and then closing the door. _He didn't even take his package_, Phil thought bitterly. Not wanting to risk further wrath from the cute but apparently _antisocial_ brunette, Phil grit his teeth and whipped around, walking back to his apartment with a slight growl.

OoO

The days passed, and Phil rarely saw the brunette. Once in a while when he was on his way to work, the ebony-haired boy would see a hazel eye peeking out from the slit in the door. But that was it. No words, no interactions—just an eye, peering cautiously out at him. Phil would have found it a bit creepy had he not been burning with curiosity. Did the brunette ever go outside? Phil saw no packages to indicate home-delivery groceries, so his neighbor _had_ to go out for shopping. If the brunette did, Phil never saw him.

It was a Saturday morning when Phil heard a knock at his door. Yawning, the ebony-haired boy got up from his breakfast table and went over to the door. Pulling away the chain, Phil unlocked the door and swung it open.

He stood face-to-face with none other than Dan Howell, his mysterious and slightly creepy next-door neighbor. Phil tried to stifle a yawn. "Erm, hello."

"Can I borrow some baking cups?" was Dan's greeting (or, well, lack of).

Phil blinked, caught a bit off guard at the disruption to the _normal_ greeting ritual. "Uh, yeah. Let me go get them."

Phil left the door open, expecting the brunette to come inside, but the shorter boy remained standing just shy of the door. _Okay…_ Shrugging, Phil rummaged around in his drawers and successfully found his baking cups. He returned to the door. "These good?"

"Hello Kitty?" was Dan's incredulous reply, raising a dark eyebrow.

Phil blushed. "Yeah, well, my mum thought it would be funny to pack my big sister's baking set instead of my regular ones. I just haven't had a chance to return them."

Dan stared at him a bit, as if trying to figure the ebony-haired boy out. "You have a sister?"

"Yeah," Phil nodded. "She's two years older than me, but she has a really creepy obsession with Hello Kitty. Mum wants her to get help, but I just find it funny."

Dan continued to stare at him. Shifting awkwardly on one foot, Phil cleared his throat nervously. Dan spoke softly, "Okay, then."

And with that, the brunette turned around and went back to his apartment. Phil watched in confusion while trying to pretend he wasn't looking at Dan's ass while the brunette walked down the hallway. Dan looked at him out of the corner of his eye as he opened his door, a small smirk pulling up the edges of his mouth. Phil had to blush at being caught in the act, an explanation on his tongue, but suddenly the brunette had disappeared.

Shrugging, Phil closed the door. _What was _that_ all about?_ Even though it was his second interaction with the brunette, Phil was getting more and more confused. Was Dan aware he was being weird, or did he know it and was just an antisocial prick that had issues? Both seemed equally plausible, and Phil figured that it was probably both at the same time.

Phil sat down at his table and tried to forget about the brunette and return to eating his breakfast. As soon as he had picked up his knife and fork and was ready to delve into his eggs, another knock rang through the apartment. _Now what?_

Hazel eyes stared at him when Phil opened the door. "Yes?"

"Do you have flour?"

"Uh, yeah," Phil replied. "Just gimme a sec."

It took a little bit longer to locate the flour, given that Phil wasn't a very good housekeep and hadn't done much cooking for himself lately. After checking that the bad date was good, Phil returned to the door. He handed over the slightly powdery package. "This good?"

The brunette took the package and nodded. "That'll do."

Phil wasn't surprised when the shorter boy spun around and walked back to his apartment. Giving a small sigh, Phil closed the door. He was about three feet from the entryway when he heard another knock. Groaning, he swung open the door. "What _now_?"

Dan's eyes were gleaming and his lips smirking slightly, as if he were amused at some inside joke he wasn't sharing with Phil. "Can I borrow a pan?"

Phil gritted his teeth, his fragile sanity breaking. "Okay, seriously, what gives? Don't you have your _own_ stuff to use? And what are you making that requires all this stuff anyway?"

Dan watched him as Phil tried to regain his breathing. Soon the brunette's lips turned up even more and he broke into a grin, trying to cover up his mouth as he started to laugh. Phil almost forgot about his annoyance because _honestly_, the brunette had a wonderful laugh, and the grin that lit up the shorter boy's lips afterwards made Phil's heartbeat rush in his ears. It was short-lived when the brunette spoke. "God, you are so _easy_ to rile up! You should _see_ your face right now."

"Excuse me?" Phil blinked, aware that he should be somewhat pissed, but he was mostly just confused. Dan's personality had just done a one-eighty and Phil was starting to realize that confusion was a common side effect of being around the boy for more than five seconds. Phil briefly found himself thinking that Dan should be the patron God of Confusion.

Dan laughed again, interrupting Phil's thoughts. "Sorry. It's just so _amusing_ to watch you get all baffled and irritated. I just couldn't help myself."

"Do you have multiple personalities or something?" Phil found himself blurting out. "Because I think there's medicine for that."

The brunette laughed again. "No, nothing like that. I just wanted to apologize for the way I acted when we met. I was just kind of getting out of a bad breakup, and I wasn't really in the mood to be social. And to answer your earlier question, I really don't _have_ a lot of things because I kind of left in a hurry."

Phil blinked at this new information. "Erm, that's okay. I think I'd be a bit like that, too, if I'd gone through that. No worries."

"Oh," the brunette added thoughtfully, "and to answer your _other_ question, I'm baking a cake."

"A cake," Phil echoed, his mind rushing to catch up. It was too early in the morning for his brain to function.

Dan smirked slightly at Phil's intelligent response. "Yeah. A _chocolate_ cake, from The Holy Mother Delia Smith."

"I think you just blasphemed, there," Phil joked. "But given that I'm an atheist and the title is totally warranted, I think it's okay."

"Good," Dan grinned, never missing a beat. "I didn't want to have you thinking that I actually got up earlier than one o' clock on Sunday. But anyways, do you want to come over and have some?"

Phil blinked. "Yeah, sure. Just let me clean up my dishes first."

"Dishes?" Dan asked curiously.

"Yeah, I was kind of having breakfast when you arrived," Phil admitted, though his irritation seemed gone and he felt better from the casual conversation.

"Oh, sorry," Dan said, but his tone was unrepentant.

"No worries. Want to come in?" Phil offered, because he knew he would feel bad if the brunette stood outside like last time.

Dan sucked on his lower lip as he contemplated. "Yeah, sure."

Phil stepped aside, waiting for the brunette to walk in before he closed the door. Dan followed him as Phil walked the short distance from the entryway to his kitchen. Picking up the dishes, he mourned slightly for the half-eaten bacon as he slid it into the trash. Cake was a better offer, though, so he was okay with it. He placed the dishes in the sink and turned around.

Dan was looking around the apartment curiously. "It's the exact same layout as mine."

"Yeah, every apartment is like this in our building. Apparently the contractors were too lazy to draw up different plans," Phil explained, and Dan nodded to show that he understood. "All right, I'm ready."

Dan grinned. "Good. Because I make a _fabulous_ Delia Smith cake."

"Does anyone besides hair stylists say the word 'fabulous' anymore?" Phil quipped, feeling more at ease with the brunette now that he was more social and _not_ being a prick. Phil felt bad for thinking that, but it was true no matter what might have happened to make him that way.

"So I should get a fake tan and call everyone _dah-_ling?" Dan asked, imitating a valley girl accent.

"Wouldn't hurt," Phil replied. "And you do that accent scarily well."

"That's not all I do well," Dan said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Wait, _what_?

Phil groaned. "I really don't even want to _know_ what you mean by that. Anyways, weren't you about to make me a delicious cake?"

Dan's eyes gleamed with mirth. "Yeah, about that. Since I don't really have the right supplies, it's actually not done yet. So I'm going to make you work for your cake by helping me bake it."

"So I have to help you make it even though you're using _my_ supplies?"

"Pretty much."

"Well, sign me up," Phil muttered, half sarcasm and half excitement. This was a great opportunity to make nice with his neighbor who was now surprisingly social. _At least, for now._ He hadn't a clue how long this sociable mood would last with the brunette, but he figured that he should take it while it lasts.

Both boys gathered up the ingredients from Phil's cupboards and they made the short trek down to Dan's apartment. Phil's lion slippers padded down the concrete hallway as he wondered just what he got himself into. Oh, well. At least there was cake. And he _did_ have a nice view of Dan's ass from here. The brunette opened his door and casually walked inside, beckoning Phil with a hand to follow suit. When Phil stepped inside, his mouth hung open a little.

Barely anything graced the walls, and the furniture was almost nonexistent. The only pieces of furniture (besides the ones the apartment came with) were a beat-up couch that was pulled out into a bed and a coffee table. The whole atmosphere was sad, really. "Man, we have _got_ to get you some furniture."

"We?" the brunette questioned, an unreadable look in his eyes, and Phil realized his slip of the tongue.

"Well, I mean," Phil stuttered, trying to come up with a reason behind his bold statement. "You didn't have time to pick up most of your things, right? My friend owns a little mom-and-pop furniture store, so I can probably get her to sell you some at a decent price."

"Oh," Dan said, looking thoughtful. "That could work."

"Yeah, and my other friend runs a thrift store that probably has tons of electronics," Phil added.

Dan raised an eyebrow. "Just how many friends with stores do you _have_?"

Phil shrugged. "Hey, I have connections."

Phil was rewarded with a laugh from the brunette, which made his chest constrict almost painfully. "It would seem so. I'll have to take you up on that offer sometime. After we bake this cake, though."

"Yeah," Phil said dazedly. "The cake."

"You okay there? Haven't zoned out on me, have you?" Dan's deep chuckle made Phil blush in embarrassment.

"No, I'm okay," Phil assured him, cursing the fact that he always seemed to be caught staring at the brunette. "Let's get started."

"Indeed," Dan smiled, and Phil tried not to visibly swoon. Damn, he had it bad for the brunette, and it was so utterly obvious he might as well be wearing a neon sign that said, 'Fuck me!' He just hoped that Dan didn't notice. From the smirk the brunette wore as he sauntered into the kitchen and the slight swaying of the boy's hips, Phil had a sinking feeling that the Dan knew _exactly_ what he did to Phil. Shit.

The baking part actually went well, to Phil's surprise. Dan's constant flirting would be the end of him, though. Every time the boys were close, their hands would brush, and the touches burned pleasantly on Phil's skin. It almost seemed as if Dan was doing it purposefully and with the intention of riling Phil up. What started out as innocent most certainly was the opposite, and it left Phil trying to control his heavy breathing while attempting to focus on their task. What was the brunette up to?

By the time the cake entered the oven, Phil was nearing his breaking point. "What gives?"

"Hm?" was Dan's informative reply.

"You know, what you're doing."

"And just _what_ am I doing?"

This was getting him nowhere. Phil grit his teeth and tried approaching it from a different angle. "Are you flirting with me?"

"Maybe," Dan replied mysteriously, amusement dancing in his eyes as Phil let out a sigh.

"You're such a prick," Phil muttered under his breath. He had no clue _why_ he was ticked off. Really, if Dan _was_ flirting, Phil was honored and a bit excited. No one usually flirted with him; he was always the goofy comic relief of his group of friends, and no one usually went for the dorky one. However, Phil was starting to realize that whenever Dan was around, the ebony-haired boy's emotions flip-flopped and left him in a constant state of confusion. Was this how it was supposed to work? Phil couldn't answer that, having never been in a relationship before.

Silence reigned as Phil tried to calm the beating of his heart. He knew that Dan was trying to get him riled up, and it was working almost _too_ well. The brunette certainly knew how to push Phil's buttons, despite only minimal contact between the two. Phil was pretty sure Dan would be the end of him. Cause of death: Emotional heart attack via crazy asshole.

"I didn't say I was _nice_," Dan whispered, his tone suddenly somber and his eyes unreadable. Phil gulped at the intense look.

"Erm, I'm sorry. I've just never done this before," Phil admitted, his cheeks turning a dusty rose color.

"Done what?" Dan asked, all hints of his previous look gone and replaced with curiosity. Phil was thankful for that, because he really didn't like to see Dan sad. He blinked. Since when did he actually _care_ for the boy more than an innocent crush? This was all happening way too fast, and Phil was stuck in a whirlwind of emotions.

Dan looked at him expectantly, and Phil awkwardly cleared his throat. "Well, flirting. I've never really _been_ with anyone before."

"Really?" Dan's surprised tone and expression made Phil feel better. "Not _one_ person? How old are you?"

Phil laughed slightly nervously. "Twenty-four. You?"

"Twenty," Dan replied. "So, really, _no one_?"

Phil scratched the back of his neck. "Erm, yeah. It's not _that_ bad, is it?"

Dan stared at him for a second calculatingly. Then he smiled, and butterflies erupted in Phil's stomach. "No, it's not. I was just surprised, is all."

"Oh. Okay," Phil said awkwardly, shifting on his feet nervously.

Dan stared at him a second more. "Well, I was thinking—"

The beep of the oven timer interrupted the brunette, and both boys looked at the oven. Dan looked slightly annoyed, and Phil's curiosity burned at his insides. "Yeah? Thinking what?"

Dan sighed. "No, it's nothing. C'mon, the cake's ready. You take it out of the oven, and I'll try to find us some plates."

Phil wondered just what Dan was about to say, but figured he had better get the cake out of the oven before it burned down the apartment complex. "Yeah, sure."

Phil put on his Pac-Man oven mitts (which Dan had snickered at when he brought them over) and removed the cake from the oven. It didn't look half bad, actually. A little crisp around the edges, but it certainly _looked_ edible. Phil couldn't wait to taste it.

"Paper plates okay?" came Dan's voice from inside of the pantry.

"Yeah," Phil replied, and Dan came out with two plates. "Do you have any forks?"

Dan laughed. "Yeah. I managed to run to the grocery store yesterday at like 3 am, so I'm not _that_ out of things. They're plastic, though, if that makes a difference."

"Fine by me," Phil shrugged. Well, that solves the mystery of how Dan got groceries. There was a twenty-four hour grocery store about a block down the street, which was incredibly convenient. Part of the reason that Phil moved here was because, although the apartments were small, it was a nice neighborhood and had many shops within walking distance. "Did you see a girl named Penny there, by any chance?"

Dan rolled his eyes. "Let me guess, a friend of yours."

Phil laughed. "Yeah."

"You really _do_ have connections, don't you?"

"I guarantee that if you ever need something, I can find you someone that can help at a good price," Phil stated, attempting to look serious and failing. "But yeah, I have an overabundance of friends that owe me a lot of favors."

"You sound like the Godfather."

"Hey, I made them an offer they couldn't refuse," Phil quipped lamely. Dan still laughed at the joke, so it must not have been _that_ bad.

"In all seriousness," Dan stated, looking at the stovetop, "we really need to eat this cake. I think it's finished cooling."

Phil nodded. "Yeah, looks like it. Where do you want to eat?"

"Despite its rugged appearance, my coffee table is _mostly_ clean," Dan nodded his head in the direction of the table.

"I like how you said 'mostly'," Phil said, laughing.

Dan shrugged. "Well, it's cleaner than most."

Phil smiled. "I'm sure it's fine."

Dan set about pulling the fold-up couch back into a seating position. He swiped a few loose crumbs off the coffee table and motioned to the couch. "All right, let's eat."

The cake was pretty delicious, and Phil groaned appreciatively. "This is _so_ good."

Dan looked at him a moment, a dazed expression on his face. Phil paused in eating, a bit uncomfortable with the stare. Dan quickly recovered, muttering something under his breath and quickly returning to his cake. What was _that_ all about? Phil decided to chalk it up to Dan just being _Dan_ (since when did he claim to know the brunette so well?).

When both boys finished and the plates were set aside on the table, Phil leaned back on the couch. "Wow, I'm stuffed."

Dan looked amused. "Worth missing out on your bacon?"

"Most definitely yes," Phil replied.

"Must not have been very good bacon, then," Dan teased.

"I'm not sure if you're insulting the cake or my cooking skills."

"A little of both, actually," Dan teased, and both boys laughed.

Phil noticed the open laptop on the table, which had a writing program open and filled with words. "Is that your work?"

Dan nodded. "Yeah. I work at a newspaper full-time, but I also write fiction on the side."

"That's cool," Phil remarked, staring at the screen. "I'm not very good at writing. As for me, I work at a coffee shop down the street."

"Not Starbucks?" Dan bemoaned dramatically.

Phil laughed. "No, it's a mom-and-pop place called 'Cool Beans'. Shitty name, but great coffee."

"I'll have to go sometime," Dan said.

"Yeah, I could take you there," Phil offered, the words blurting out of his mouth. Had he just asked Dan out? _It's just coffee_, he thought to himself. But he knew that if Dan accepted, it would probably be much more. Dan didn't seem like the person to just throw people around, so Phil strangely felt like he could trust him.

Dan's smile erased any doubts in Phil's mind. "Yeah, I'd like that. How about tomorrow?"

"I'm off tomorrow, so yeah, that would be awesome," Phil couldn't help the goofy smile that lit up his face. Dan's resulting chuckle made the ebony-haired boy blush.

The sound of Final Fantasy VII's Chocobo theme rang throughout the small flat, and Phil's blush deepened. "Hold on a sec, let me get that."

Dan laughed. "Sure, thing. Awesome ringtone, by the way."

"Thanks," Phil replied, and then picked up the phone.

"Where the hell are you?" came the booming voice of his manager, and Phil had to hold the phone away from his ears. Shit. He totally forgot that he was supposed to work today.

"Crap, I'm sorry, Alex," Phil apologized sheepishly. "I must have forgotten the time. Just give me like, fifteen minutes and I'll be there."

"You had better," she replied ominously before hanging up. Phil looked at his phone in shock. Geeze, was she on her period or something?

Phil turned to Dan, an apologetic look on his face. "That was my manager. I forgot that I had work ten minutes ago. Sorry, I gotta bail."

Dan's look of disappointment was hard to miss, and Phil felt bad. Dan's next words were light, though. "Yeah, no problem. I'll catch you tomorrow then, yeah?"

"Definitely," Phil nodded eagerly, giving a wide smile.

Dan chuckled and they both walked up to the foyer. The brunette unhooked the chain and opened the door for Phil. "All right. I know where you live, so I'll come looking for you if you stand me up."

Phil laughed. "Like I would ever do that."

Dan shrugged. "You never know."

The unreadable look in Dan's eyes sparked questions in Phil's mind, but just as he was about to open his mouth, his ringtone started up again. This time, a text: _U r so dead if u don't come here in 5 mins._ "Shit, sorry. I _really_ have to go."

"Okay, seeya tomorrow," Dan smiled, and Phil wondered if he imagined the slight spark of sadness in the brunette's eyes before he turned and walked out the door.

Despite being yelled at by his boss, Phil found the rest of the day to be pretty okay. After all, he landed himself a date (hopefully Dan thought of it like that) with a pretty cute guy, so he was feeling a high that he was unused to having. His head remained in the clouds all day, yet he still managed to be somewhat useful. At least, he hadn't spilled boiling hot coffee on himself/his patrons this time, so that counted as a productive day.

This time, when he strode past Dan's apartment, his steps slowed and his heart sped up at the thought of what lay in store the next day. Sleep was hard to come by that night, and his dreams were filled with hazel eyes and seductive smiles.

OoO

Despite a minor setback when he realized that most of his good clothes were dirty, Phil stepped out of his apartment feeling light as air. After some digging around, he managed to find a newly bought plaid jumper and a clean pair black skinny jeans. Ah, the bachelor life. After checking that his hair was okay in the reflective surface of his phone, he walked up to Dan's door and knocked firmly.

When the door opened, the sight that greeted him was unlike any other. There stood Dan, naked except for a jet black towel that he clutched around his waist. Phil tried not to let his eyes wander _too_ much over the brunette's toned body. _Look at his face look at his face look at his—dammit_. Dan's smirk made Phil blush a million shades of red.

Dan spoke first. "Sorry, I'm not ready. You can come in while I get dressed, if you want."

Phil nodded, shifting awkwardly willing away the pressure in his jeans (that thankfully wasn't visible) and his blush (which unfortunately was). "Yeah, okay."

Phil stepped inside and Dan closed the door after him. Phil tried (and failed) not to look at Dan's covered ass while he padded into the bedroom. The door shut, and Phil was left standing in the living room awkwardly.

Dan's voice carried over from the bedroom. "Sorry about this. I kind of broke my alarm clock this morning."

Phil blinked. "_Kind of_ broke your alarm clock?"

"Yeah," Dan laughed sheepishly, the sound muffled by the door but still audible. "I threw it across the room and it cracked. It's surprisingly not that durable."

"Well, I don't think they were made to be thrown at the wall, Dan," Phil said, liking the sound of the brunette's name on his tongue.

"What do you mean? I thought I clearly read, 'wall-proof' on the package."

"You should file a complaint, then," Phil quipped, laughing. He really liked the way they could fall into banter so easily, despite only knowing each other for a short period of time. Maybe Dan wasn't so crazy, after all. Maybe he just needed to warm up to people.

"I should," laughed Dan, his voice sounding closer. The door opened, and Dan stepped out into the living room. Dan was dressed simply in a form-fitting, black long-sleeved shirt and a pair of dark skinny jeans, but it still looked amazing on the brunette's body. Phil mentally whistled. Man, was Dan a catch.

He hadn't realized he was staring until he heard Dan clear his throat. Phil looked up to see Dan smirking faintly. "Shall we?"

Phil nodded, smiling sheepishly. "Erm, yeah. It's not that far from here."

Dan grabbed his keys and they were on their way. When they exited the apartment complex, their steps clicked in sync as they crunched on the messy pavement. Phil felt nervous for not the first time since meeting the brunette. He couldn't muster up any words at the moment, so they walked in silence. When Phil glanced at Dan from the corner of his eyes, the brunette was looking straight ahead with a thoughtful expression on his face. Suddenly Dan's eyes, as if picking up on Phil's stare, flicked to the right to look at the ebony-haired boy. Phil quickly averted his gaze and stared instead at the graffiti that lined the building faces to his right. He could feel Dan staring at him, but Phil suddenly couldn't look at him.

As Phil said, the coffee shop wasn't too far, and five minutes later had them standing at the door to the store. A brilliant purple building, the coffee shop was about as inconspicuous as a car with high beams on. Bright signage lined the windows, and strange mannequins flanked the doors with various names signed in multicolored markers.

"What are these about?" Dan asked curiously.

Phil shrugged. "It's sort of like a guest book. People can sign their names on the mannequins. Sort of like a quirky thing, I guess."

Dan laughed. "That's actually pretty cool. A little weird, but still awesome."

"Yeah, just wait until you see the _inside_," Phil remarked, pulling open the door for Dan. "After you."

Dan giggled slightly. "A gentleman, eh?"

"I can be nice when I want to," Phil shrugged, blushing at the compliment.

"I'm sure," Dan said, smiling. He walked through the door and Phil followed suit, the jingling of bells signaling their arrival.

The scent of coffee pervaded the air, and Phil immediately felt at home when he inhaled. He had been working here for about a year now, and he thought of this as his second home and the employees as his second family.

The shop itself was very bright and vibrant. Pieces of art nouveau lined the walls like posters, competing for space and looking akin to a giant wallpaper. Each of the tables in the shop were a different color, but you could hardly tell given the layer of stickers coating the tops, a fine layer of plastic covering them up and protecting them. The chairs matched each of the tables and were made of iron with comfy cushions on top, the barest hints of rust tracing around the bolts in the metal. The bar where people paid and the coffee was made was also a bright purple, with an obsidian countertop gleaming in the low lights. All in all, this was a pretty cool place despite the weird decorating scheme. Somehow it all worked together, though it hurt Phil's eyes a tad when he tried to take it all in.

"So this is Cool Beans," Phil announced, gesturing with a wide motion. "I practically live here when I'm not sleeping or shopping."

Dan laughed. "It's actually pretty cool. I just have to wait for my eyes to adjust, first."

"Yeah, it can be a lot to take in," Phil admitted. "But we have some of the best coffee ever."

Phil motioned Dan over to the front, where a clerk with blonde hair was bustling about making coffee. "Hey, Justine."

She looked up and smiled. "Oh, hey Phil!"

"This is Justine," Phil explained. "She's been here longer than I have, and she's pretty much the only reason I can keep my sanity here."

"Oh, don't listen to him. He loves it here," she smiled at Dan. "So, who's your friend?"

"I'm Dan," the brunette introduced, smiling. "I just moved here a few weeks ago, and Phil's showing me around."

"Oh," Justine giggled, drawing out the vowel. "_Showing you around_, eh?"

Phil blushed, mortified. "Okay, that's enough, Justine." He turned to Dan, who was giving him a small smirk. His blush deepened. "Anyways, pick whatever you want. It's on me."

"What do you recommend?" Dan asked, looking up at the sign with wide eyes. Phil had to admit, they had so many flavors and types of coffee that it could get a bit confusing if you didn't know what you wanted.

"We have a really good chocolate mocha," Phil offered. "It's real, Belgian chocolate."

"Okay, I'll have that," Dan nodded, smiling. Phil returned the smile.

"Okay," he said, turning to Justine. "Two chocolate mochas."

"Coming up," the barista nodded. As she set about making the coffee, she added, "Oh, and it's on the house for you two. Phil's never brought anyone here, so it's cause for celebration!"

Dan gave an odd look at Phil, who blushed under the scrutiny. "_No one_? I thought you had a limitless amount of friends."

Phil scratched the back of his neck sheepishly and shrugged. "I've never really had the opportunity. And I don't have _that_ many friends."

"So I'm taking your coffee date virginity?" Dan quipped, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"I guess you could say that," Phil admitted, laughing. He tried to shut down the other parts of his brain that filled his head with images of just _how many _ways Dan could take his virginity.

The ring of a bell brought his attention to the countertop. "Oh, coffee's ready. Let's go find a seat."

They picked a seat near the back, which Phil informed Dan was only for employees. The lighting was dimmed even more back there, and it provided a romantic atmosphere despite the roar of the coffee machines. Phil sipped his coffee, closing his eyes in bliss and groaning a little as the tasty liquid warmed him up.

"Are you all right, there?" came the amused voice of Dan. "Do I need to give you two some privacy?"

Phil opened his eyes, blushing. "I just really like coffee."

"I can see that," Dan laughed. "Good thing you work in a coffee shop."

"I know, right?" Phil laughed as well. The atmosphere became a lot lighter after that. Phil took another heavenly sip and put down his cup. "So, where did you move from?"

"Manchester," Dan replied. He pulled the cup up to his mouth, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "What about you? I assume you haven't lived here your whole life."

"Surprisingly, I used to live in Manchester as well," Phil admitted. "That's pretty weird, I have to admit."

"Pretty small world," Dan smiled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Maybe we were neighbors and never knew it."

Phil laughed. "I'm pretty sure I'd know if you were my neighbor."

"Oh?" Dan raised an eyebrow. "And may I ask how?"

Phil blushed, caught. The true answer was that if Dan really _had_ lived next to him at that time, things would be much different and Phil could actually see a great relationship between the two of them. The just connected, and it felt right. Also, he would probably notice if such a cute boy lived next to him all of his life. His mouth, ever the traitor, blurted out, "Well, you're kind of hard to miss."

"Is that so?" Dan looked amused at the turn in conversation. "Again, may I ask how?"

"Um," Phil's blush deepened. Fuck, why did he always walk into these kinds of situations? What could he say that didn't sound like he was a horny schoolgirl or a potential stalker? "You just have an interesting personality."

"An interesting personality?" Dan echoed. He burst out laughing. "God, your face is so priceless! You're way too easy to rile up, you know that?"

Phil groaned. "I wish you would stop doing that."

"Never!" Dan exclaimed playfully, and it sounded like a promise. His voice took on a slightly more apologetic tone. "Sorry, but you're just so cute when you're riled up."

Cute? Dan thought he was _cute_? Phil blushed and a smile lit up his face. Dan thought he was cute. He couldn't seem to get over this bit of news. Dan. Dan thought he was cute. _Cute_.

"Hello, earth to Phil?" Dan called, snapping his fingers in front of the ebony-haired boy's face.

"Mm?" Phil blinked. "Yes?"

"Are you still with us?" the brunette asked playfully, a smile tugging at his lips.

"That's debatable," Phil quipped, and both boys laughed. Phil remembered his coffee and took a sip, only to find that the liquid had cooled off considerably. He made a face. "Shame coffee doesn't stay hot forever."

Dan nodded. "Yeah, but at least it doesn't stay scalding for long."

"True," Phil agreed. He felt the back of his neck prickle, and he looked up. Justine was staring at the pair of them with a sort of wistful expression. When their eyes met, she gave Phil a knowing smile and turned back to talk with a customer. Well, at least if seemed like Dan had Justine's approval, which was saying a lot. She normally didn't trust many people, but she was a pretty good judge of character. The fact that she felt comfortable enough to be around Dan spoke volumes about the boy.

Phil suddenly remembered something. "So, you said that you work for a newspaper. What sort of news do you cover?"

"About that," Dan's voice had a laugh behind it. "I actually work for a paranormal newspaper. The Haunted Harlot. Despite the name, it's all mostly PG."

"So what sort of things do you cover?" Phil asked, curiosity piqued.

"Oh, mainly ghost stories and stuff like that. A couple of UFO sightings, but we like to focus on more…I guess you can call it _substantial_ stuff. We have a bit of class, which is more than I can say for most newspapers," Dan explained.

"It sounds like an exciting life, then," Phil commented.

"Well, I wouldn't call it exciting, per se. It's more like _interesting_," the brunette said, shrugging.

"Well, it still sounds cool. I wish I could have a life like that."

"No," Dan's eyes darkened and his voice took on an ominous tone, "you don't."

"Whoa, mate, I'm sorry if I offended you or something," Phil quickly apologized, holding up his hands in a placating gesture.

Dan's look brightened instantly and he looked apologetic. "No, _I'm_ sorry. I just haven't had the best situations in my life, I guess, so I wouldn't want to have someone go through that."

"What kind of situations, if you don't mind my asking?" Phil asked, curious at the turn in conversation.

Dan looked around nervously. "Not in here, okay?"

"You make it sound like it's top secret or something," Phil quipped, trying to lighten the mood.

Dan laughed. "No, not at all. It's just that it's kind of a private conversation to be having in a coffee shop with your coworker staring at us."

Phil turned around and laughed. Dan was right. "She just has some, uh, territorial tendencies?"

"She looks like a mother lion defending her cub," Dan commented, flashing a grin at Justine. Caught, she turned away in embarrassment. Both boys laughed.

"I've known her for a long time, so she just wants to protect me, I guess," Phil explained. "But yeah, we should probably head out. The shop looks like it's about to explode with people."

Dan nodded. "Okay, cool. I kind of have to work on a story, though, so I gotta head out. Sorry."

"Yeah, no problem," Phil said, biting his lip in disappointment. He then got an idea. "Hey, how about we have dinner tomorrow at my house? I'm a pretty decent chef. Or, at least, I watch enough Master Chef to have no excuses."

"You, too? I thought I was the only male in this city to watch that show," Dan said, and both boys laughed. "But yeah, dinner sounds good. What time is good for you?"

"Well, I actually have work tomorrow and I need groceries as well, so I'll get home around five. So maybe six-ish?"

"Yeah, that'd be awesome!" Dan's smile made Phil's heart flip over. Wow, how did he get so lucky? Things like this never happened to Phil; he usually set them up or watched from the sidelines as a third wheel. Phil was falling pretty fast despite the short period of time knowing the brunette, and he really hoped that Dan at least liked him enough to let this continue.

"So I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, hope in his voice despite Dan's assurance.

"Yeah, tomorrow," Dan confirmed, grinning.

The two boys got up and, after waving goodbye to Justine (who waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Phil and made him groan in mortification while Dan laughed), they set off on their way. They trekked back to the apartment complex in a comfortable silence.

Phil tried to study Dan as inconspicuously as he could during the walk (though, given Dan's knack for observation, he wasn't very good at hiding it). The ebony-haired boy thought back to the first time he met Dan and how standoffish and mean the brunette had been. Was this really the same person standing before him now? Either Dan had multiple personalities (Phil wouldn't put it past him), or something had gone terribly wrong in the weeks leading up to today. Dan previously alluded to a much deeper, darker story, and Phil was both curious and hesitant to learn Dan's story. What if he was a fugitive from the law, and had picked the worst city to hide out in? Or what if he had a bastard son somewhere and he moved here to avoid child support? _God, Phil, get a grip. It's probably not even that bad._ Phil always had an overactive imagination, so he was probably blowing everything out of proportion. Dan seemed really nice now, so Phil wasn't extremely worried. He would just have to wait and see.

The moment that Dan disappeared behind his door, Phil couldn't help his goofy, lovesick smile. Dinner with Dan.. He tried to put their names together: Dil, Philan…Phan. It had a nice ring to it. God, he should just sharpie it on a notebook or something; he was acting like a hormonal fourteen-year-old girl. _D+P= Whatever the fuck we are._ He didn't know how one person could make him so incredibly lovesick and happy, and he really hoped from the bottom of his heart that Dan felt the same.

Phil inserted the key into the door and, with a little finagling, managed to open the door and go into his apartment. He really hadn't been lying; he really needed groceries. Grabbing a chewed up pen and a (manly) purple notepad, he sat down at his table and began to plan.

OoO

Six o'clock couldn't come fast enough. The whole day at work crawled by at a snail's pace, and Phil had been totally useless at work due to his zoning out every five seconds. The manager finally had enough by the fourth coffee spill, and she sent him home with a shake of the head and instructions to "be safe and always use protection." God, it was like his friends only existed to embarrass him. He gladly and gratefully took the offer, though.

Straining from the effort to carry all of his grocery bags (two trips are for losers, anyway), Phil managed to get into his apartment with little incident. After a little deliberating, he decided to stick with the Delia Smith theme and make them both her Macaroni Carbonara recipe. It didn't look so hard, and Phil wasn't lying when he said that he was a decent cook. Cooking seemed to calm him down, much like a cup of tea or a good book on a rainy day. His mum taught him how to cook as soon as he could reach the countertop and not burn the house down by accident (though there were quite a few times in the beginning when the smoke alarm went off). Humming lightly to himself, he began cooking their dinner.

There was a knock on the door at exactly six on the dot, and Phil hurriedly put a cover over the finished meal and answered the door. As expected, Dan stood on the welcome mat. Today he wore a dark blue sweater that hugged him in all the right places and an equally dark pair of skinny jeans (did he have _any_ bright colors in his wardrobe?). Dan flashed him a wide smile as soon as the door opened.

"Hi," the brunette greeted (ah, so he _was_ capable of normal greeting procedure).

"Hey, yourself," Phil breathed. He realized he was staring, and he blushed a little and stepped aside. "Come on in. I've just finished the food."

"Smells great," Dan said approvingly as he brushed past Phil into the apartment. Dan's hand grazed Phil's thigh in the action, and Phil sucked in a deep breath. God, he was acting like a complete hornball! His eyes connected with Dan's as the brunette passed him, and Phil wondered if he imagined the amusement dancing in the hazel orbs. _Think about Gammy in her panties_. Well, that did the trick quite nicely. Phil tried to compose himself as he followed after Dan.

"I sort of broke my kitchen table today, so I'm afraid we're going to have to eat on the coffee table," Phil admitted, pointing to the cherry-colored table. "It's not real cherry, so it's fine if you make a mess on it."

Dan laughed. "And how did you manage to do _that_?"

"Apparently my table wasn't meant to handle an entire load of groceries at once," Phil explained, shrugging.

"What _is_ it with us and breaking important things?" Dan wondered aloud, pretending to think.

"I think it's more of a personal problem. Maybe it's not our heads that need examined, but our bodies," Phil quipped.

"Our bodies need _examining_, eh?" Dan waggled his eyebrows suggestively, making Phil groan.

"I didn't mean it like _that_. God, you're the worst," Phil grunted, but the words lacked real heat and were said playfully.

"I like to think that I'm actually pretty good at it," Dan smirked.

"At _what_?"

"Do you really want to know?" Dan countered, voice laced with amusement. His eyes turned a shade darker, though, and Phil tried to ignore the pink tongue that swiped across Dan's upper lip.

Phil gulped and squeaked out, "Actually, I think I want to eat."

This earned him a dark chuckle and a raise of an eyebrow. "You really can't handle pressure at _all_, can you?"

"No," Phil admitted, trying to calm the beating of his heart. "But, I mean, the food _is_ getting cold."

Dan laughed, lighter this time. "True. I'm anxious to test out your cooking skills."

"You won't be disappointed," Phil promised, internally breathing a sigh of relief at the swift change in topic. Dan was completely right; Phil broke under even the slightest bit of pressure. He supposed that's why people liked to tease him so much, because of the way he reacted to things. Normally he didn't mind, because he had to admit that it _was_ funny, but normally he didn't have someone teasing him with impure intentions. Well, at least it came across that way. Phil figured that he would die either by a heart attack or internal combustion by the time the night was through. Or the constant overload of teenage hormones might do him in. He felt like he should be taking bets.

"So what's for dinner?" Dan questioned, casually strolling over to the stove. "Whatever it is, it smells delicious."

"It's Macaroni Carbonara," Phil explained.

"Delia Smith's recipe?" Dan asked, leaning over the stove to have a peek at the food.

"Yup," Phil confirmed, smiling a little.

"You sure know the way to my heart," Dan joked lightly, but his eyes held a deeper emotion in them.

"Well, you know what they say," Phil trailed off, shrugging.

"What, always use protection?"

"_God_, you are so horrible," Phil groaned, rolling his eyes. "Plates are in the cupboard to your left, and utensils are in the second drawer down. Take as much as you want; I'm not really one for leftovers."

"All right," Dan nodded, seemingly content with his teasing for now. Was this how it was always going to be? Phil had to admit that the brunette's flirtations were actually kind of cute, in a perverse sort of way. He didn't know how he would last the night, given that they had only just started their evening ten minutes ago.

Both boys got their plates and sat on the comfy black leather sofa in the living room. Luckily, Phil's coffee table was the perfect height for the tall boys (well, at least their knees didn't knock into the tabletop too much). Phil surpassed himself this time, as the meal was pretty tasty (after all, it _was_ a Delia Smith recipe). They ate in silence, enjoying the food and each other's company.

When they were finished and the plates were put away, they lounged on the sofa a comfortable distance apart. Phil still had yet to ask Dan about his story, and he had a feeling that the younger man would want some space while he shared the tale.

"That was delicious," Dan groaned appreciatively. "I might have to hire you full-time."

"That's only if you can stand my three o'clock in the morning cooking binges," Phil joked.

"Mm, _especially_ then," Dan grinned. "I can't pass up a man who makes delicious food at odd hours of the day."

"Consider yourself off the market, then," Phil quipped, half joking and half wanting to see the reaction that Dan would have at the words. Phil already knew that he wanted something more with the brunette. They just _fit_ so easily together; it was like Dan was the perfect match for him in more ways than one. Phil hoped that he hadn't been _too_ bold, but he wanted Dan to know his intentions upfront before they got too close. Phil couldn't handle it if he invested so much into a relationship only to have a misunderstanding of intent. The Friend Zone was his usual home, and he was getting tired of it.

"Well," Dan spoke, and then paused as if trying to find the perfect words. Phil held his breath as he waited for Dan's reply. "I guess I'm sold, then."

Phil couldn't hold back the goofy grin that lit up his face. "Okay, then. So we're on the same page."

"I think it's more like a novel, honestly," Dan joked. Then his tone became serious. "But before this goes any farther, I really have to tell you something."

"Oh God, you're a fugitive, aren't you?" Phil blurted out, and he immediately blushed.

"What?" Dan blinked. "Of course not. I'm way too smart to be caught."

"I really hope you're joking."

"It's nothing like that," Dan promised, chuckling.

"Okay, good. Just so we're clear, you don't have an illegitimate son, right?"

"Geeze, you have such an overactive imagination!" Dan laughed. "Given that I don't even _like_ girls enough to have sex with them, I'm pretty sure I haven't fathered any children. Where do you come _up_ with this stuff?"

"Too much free time and not enough discipline?" Phil joked, though he sighed internally. He really didn't think it was anything bad, but his imagination tended to get him in really bad spots. Good for daydreams, bad for serious conversations.

"Apparently."

Phil cleared his throat. "Anyway, keep going."

"Okay," Dan nodded, all traces of humor gone and replaced with a somber expression. "So remember when I told you that the reason I acted like an asshole at first was because I had just gotten out of a bad relationship, right?"

Phil nodded. "Yeah."

"Well," Dan started, and then paused. "I think I'll just start at the beginning; it's easier that way.

"I met Shawn when we were in high school and started dating him a few weeks later. He seemed nice enough; always brought me gifts on our dates and held the door open for me, you know, all that gentlemanly stuff. We became really close, and I shared a lot of firsts with him, since it was my first relationship with _anyone_. I naively got used to the idea of always being with him, and it seemed like he was my 'soul mate' or whatever you call it. Then high school ended, and we decided to rent a small townhome together immediately after. Things were fine for about a year.

"You have to understand, he was really nice when he was sober. Like, he went out of his way to make sure that I had a good time. But then the drinking started, and it was like he became a different person altogether. We started having fights, really nasty ones. The cops even showed up a couple of times when they got _really_ nasty.

"I know what you're thinking, and I'm glad to say that he never hurt me physically. But he would say such awful things to me, calling me 'ugly' and 'fat' and telling me that I wasn't worth anything at all. After a few months, I started to believe him. I stopped going out with my friends, stopped leaving the house, and stopped eating. I kept trying and failing to make it work, and he always seemed so sweet when he was sober. I thought that maybe if I tried to help him, things would go back to the way they were and we could be a happy family again. This delusion lasted almost a year.

"A few weeks ago, we had a really big fight. Like, a screaming, yelling, throwing things kind of fight. It wasn't pretty. At ten the next morning, I woke up in my bed alone. It wasn't too abnormal, because he had taken to sleeping on the couch for months. I walked downstairs on my tiptoes in case he was asleep; he didn't like to be woken up earlier than one o'clock. He wasn't there. I searched around the house, figuring that he might not have made it to the couch and was passed out somewhere. I couldn't find him. And then I opened the garage.

"It didn't smell like anything, but it was hazy enough in the garage that I knew what he had done. After I opened the door to let out the fumes, I ran up to the car to see if he was still alive. He looked so still and so peaceful, Phil, just like he was sleeping. I called the ambulance, but he was already dead before I even opened the door. He left no note, nothing that could explain his exact reasons.

"I was sad, yes. But devastated? No. I had already cut off my emotions so much in order to appease him that I couldn't even cry. I felt so guilty, so numb. He had been a huge part of my life for almost two years, and I couldn't even muster up a tear. How fucked up was that?

"No one came to the funeral; his friends and family had abandoned him long ago. I didn't even stay for long, I just told them to hurry up and bury him because I didn't want and couldn't afford a priest. It sounds horrible, I know, but this man had taken years of my life and I was completely done with the whole thing. I decided to move far, far away from the memories and ghost of him and make a new life. I didn't take many things with me because they all reminded me of _him_, and I really wanted to just leave as fast as I could.

"I had only been here for about two weeks when you knocked on my door. You looked so cute and nice and innocent, and I was in shock. I was such an asshole to you, and I'm sorry, but I was kind of in a deep funk from all the drama that I really didn't want to be bothered with socializing. It took a few days for me to come around, though, and you piqued my interest. So I started watching you, and from what I could tell, you were the complete opposite of Shawn that you couldn't even be the same species. I know I don't come off as shy, but it took a lot of pacing and deliberation before I convinced myself to knock on your door. But I'm glad I did," Dan paused, "because I didn't want to miss this opportunity. You're such an incredible person, and I can't help but be attracted to you. I really hope you still stay after this, because I want to make it work with you and I'm positive that I'd be really happy with you."

Taking Dan's silence as a sign that he was finished, Phil leaned back in order to digest the new information. Wow, what a tough situation. Phil thought that Dan was so strong to have survived it, and he thought more of Dan rather than less like brunette seemed to fear. The ebony-haired boy felt honored that not only had Dan shared his past with him, but also he liked Phil enough to try and make it work so soon after all of it happened. What did he say to something like that? All the words in Phil's head seemed trite and wouldn't cover the span of what he felt. He shuddered involuntarily and blurted out, "I hate that."

Dan suddenly stood up, and his stare was icy cold when he looked down at Phil. "Well, sorry to have wasted your time."

"Wait, what?" Phil asked, mouth agape. "What did I do?"

"You know, you could have just said politely that you wanted to end this. But you didn't have to insult me," Dan's voice came from above him, hard as steel.

"Dan, wait a minute, I—" And Dan was gone in a flash, not even bothering to close the door on his way out.

_What the hell just happened?_ Phil thought to himself, too shocked to move. Was it something he did? He thought to a minute ago and realized his mistake. Fuck, Dan must have thought Phil meant that it was _Dan_ that Phil hated. But it was the whole fucked up situation that Phil really meant. _God, Phil, you're such an idiot_. Why did his mouth have to get him in so much trouble?

He sat frozen for a few seconds more, and then his body caught up with his brain and he was booking it out of the apartment and down the hallway. He knocked urgently on the door. "Dan, that wasn't what I meant; I didn't mean _you_! Please, open the door!"

No answer, not even a sound from inside of the apartment. Phil continued to knock at the door until his knuckles bled, determined to right his wrong. For ten minutes he knocked constantly, and then the pain in his hand became too much. _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck._

"Well, maybe if I stay here, he'll open the door. He has to come out _eventually_, right?" Phil murmured to himself. He never would have done this before; what was he _thinking_? But all of his reactions seemed to be borderline insane when it came to the brunette, so why was this time any different?

Phil sat down and crossed his arms on his knees, laying his head in the small space between his elbows. And tonight had gone so _well_, too. Phil wasn't sure what would happen when Dan inevitably exited he apartment, but Phil had found something amazing with the boy, and he wasn't about to back down now.

He raised his voice, as if Dan could hear him through the door. "I'm staying out here until you open this door. I don't care if I have to wait all night."

He _did_ end up waiting all night, as the apartment showed no signs of life. After about an hour, Phil's eyes betrayed him and slipped closed as he reluctantly fell into a light and tortured sleep. He didn't dream; there was just a dark void that stared back at him all night long and taunted him as he slept.

OoO

Sunlight pervaded his vision behind closed lids, and Phil opened his eyes warily and blinked back the sleep. His eyes burned slightly from forgetting to change his contacts. Phil felt surprisingly warm despite the fall season, and realized with a start that something heavy and fluffy covered him. He lifted up his head to see a pale gray blanket draped over his form. _Dan…?_

Hope sprung within him like a startled bird and he looked up at the door, cringing a little when his vision swam. At first, Phil found nothing out of the ordinary, but a secondary glance made him see a little sticky note stuck to the peephole.

Wincing, Phil got up slowly and worked out the kinks in his body. Sleeping anywhere but a bed was always hard, especially in a sitting position. Hugging the blanket tightly around himself and breathing in the scent of cinnamon, Phil grabbed the note and began to read.

It simply said: _Come in when you're ready. Coffee's in the lower right cupboard._

Phil's hope increased. Was Dan okay, now? It _did_ sound like a peace offering, and Phil smiled a little. Dan couldn't be that mad if he was offering coffee. Taking a deep breath, Phil turned the knob and pushed open the door.

The smell of coffee filled his nose, and the whir of the bean grinder made him turn towards the kitchen. Phil's heart paused for a beat when he saw Dan, who had his back turned to the ebony-haired boy. He really hoped that he wasn't dreaming. This would be a cruel trick for his subconscious to play.

"Dan?" Phil asked hesitantly, voice soft but still audible.

Dan turned around, and flashed him a brilliant smile that made Phil inhale sharply though his nose. "Phil."

"Is that coffee?" Phil asked, trying to remain casual despite the heaviness weighing on his heart.

"Yeah," Dan confirmed. "I wanted to wait for you to wake up, but you kind of slept a long time."

Phil yawned. "What time is it?"

"Around noon."

"Wow, I really slept in," Phil blinked. It was surprising given that Phil hadn't been in the most comfortable of positions. "It didn't feel like such a long time, though."

"You might have gotten better sleep if you actually used a bed, like a _normal_ human being," Dan joked casually.

"Maybe I'm not normal," Phil cautiously tried. "Maybe I'm such an idiot that I should stuff my foot in my mouth at all times."

Dan looked at him with an unreadable expression. "Yeah, I'd have to agree with you on that one."

"God, Dan, I am _so_, so sorry! I—"

"Let's just have coffee first, and then we can decide the big things when we get to them," Dan interrupted. "I know you do it for a living, but I make a mean cuppa joe."

"All right," Phil nodded. "Let's test out your barista skills."

"No pressure, eh?" Dan joked.

"None, whatsoever," Phil said seriously, and it made Dan pause a second before he turned back to the pot. Phil stared at Dan's back until the coffee machine beeped and signaled that the drink was ready. He watched as Dan brought out two mugs from the cupboard and placed them on the countertop. "I thought you didn't have any dishes."

"I didn't _used_ to; I just bought these yesterday. Y'know, just in case," Dan explained, shrugging. Phil wasn't entirely sure what 'just in case' meant to the brunette, but Phil felt honored that Dan thought well of him enough to purchase a something like that for the both of them. "Anyways, coffee's ready. Creamer's in the fridge, if you want any."

"Thanks. Do you have any sugar? I like to drown my coffee in sweetness."

Dan laughed. "Of course you do."

"Hey, what's _that_ supposed to mean?" Phil retorted playfully, grateful that they had fallen into banter despite the events of the previous night.

"Whatever you want it to," Dan replied mysteriously, a small smile pulling up the ends of his mouth.

"You're so confusing sometimes, you know that?" Phil groaned, but his smile ruined the effect.

"I know," Dan grinned. "I like to keep you on your toes. It's good for your brain, I hear."

"What, confusion or irritation?"

"Both," Dan grinned even more. He then motioned to the coffee. "It should be cool enough to drink now, unless you like a burnt tongue."

"My tongue and I thank you," Phil made a little bow, and Dan laughed and mirrored the action. "But seriously, I really appreciate this. And thanks for the blanket, too."

"No problem," Dan smiled. He held up a cup. "Here's your mug. We can drink it on the sofa."

Phil accepted the mug with a smile, and shrugged off the blanket to fold it neatly onto a chair. Both boys moved over to the couch. They drank their coffee in a surprisingly comfortable silence. Phil's thoughts calmed down as soon as he took the first sip; drinking coffee was another one of Phil's ways to relax. It immediately made him feel happy and at peace, and it thankfully quieted his mind so that he could think of more important things. Like how the hell he was going to explain his emotions to Dan.

What happened to Dan was really awful. Phil felt bad for the brunette; no one should have to go through something like that. If Phil went through that, well, it would ruin his life. Dan was such a strong person, much more so than Phil. Dan had it wrong when he thought that it made Phil like him less or think that he was tainted in some way. It actually reinforced Phil's feelings for the brunette. Now all that remained was for Phil to find a way to express his feelings to Dan without making a twat of himself like last time.

Both boys finished at roughly the same time, and they placed their mugs down on the coffee table in unison. Dan shifted and brought one knee up to his chest while letting the other hang over the couch, and Phil turned towards the brunette and tried to calm himself. Phil's heart hammered in his chest as he tried to decide how to start the conversation that could either scare Dan away or make things better.

It was Dan who spoke first. "Sorry."

Phil blinked. "About what?"

Eyes downcast, the brunette shrugged. "Everything. About running out on you before you had a chance to say anything else. For sharing something that personal when we've only just met. For probably scaring you off. I'm just not good at dealing with stuff like this, I guess."

"That makes two of us," Phil admitted, and they shared a slightly nervous and awkward laugh. "But, really, you have no reason to be sorry. It's _me_ who should apologize. I've never been good with words, frankly, and last night was no exception. I didn't mean for what I said to come off like that. I'm just shit at explaining things. So I'll try to get this right.

"I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm grateful that you felt like you could share something like that with me, even though we just met. It really makes me feel good that you can trust me. I wish it hadn't happened, but wishes don't really change the past. Emotional scars aren't bad; they just mean that you've gone through shit and survived. I think you're so strong to rise above that. You're strong, and you're funny, and you're so beautiful," at this, Phil blushed; yet he held Dan's eyes when the brunette looked up. "The past is the past, but if one good thing came out of it, it's that we met. I really feel like we have a connection, and I don't want to ruin it with my inability to speak like a normal human being. So, uh, that's it," Phil finished lamely.

Dan remained silent for a little while, staring intensely at Phil. Despite the natural urge to look away, Phil continued to look at the brunette in an attempt to mentally project all of the emotions that he couldn't explain with words. After a while, Dan's gaze softened, and his lips turned up in a small smile. "You're right, you're shit at words."

"Hey, I thought I was pretty good," Phil replied slightly defensively, though he knew Dan didn't mean the words.

Dan's smile widened. "Yeah, you were. I just wanted to rile you up. But seriously, no one's ever spoken to me like that, so heartfelt. It makes me happy. I'm so glad I met you."

Phil wasn't ready for Dan's blush, and the ebony-haired boy's cheeks mirrored the brunette. Dan looked so cute right now. "Me, too."

Both boys stared at each other silently, yet the silence was somehow comfortable. Phil could practically see the wheels turning in Dan's head, and he understood because his own mind was trying to catch up with this conversation. The whole conversation was a catharsis that he knew both boys needed, and there really wasn't much to say afterwards. Despite knowing the brunette for a short time, Phil felt a deep connection. Things just clicked between the two, and while Phil knew that it was too soon for the 'L' word, he felt like maybe Dan touched his heart and made the ebony-haired boy think things that he hadn't felt in a while. Dan was good for him, and he was the most absolutely awesome person Phil knew.

"Can we have a redo?" Phil blurted out.

"Hm?" Dan asked. "What do you mean?"

"Like, try this again. Dinner, I mean," Phil explained, scratching the back of his neck. "I could try my hand at something fancy. I can't guarantee results, though."

Dan's face lit up, and it was one of the most beautiful things Phil had seen. "Yeah. That'd be nice."

"It's kind of early for dinner, though," Phil said, a rush of confidence making him bold. "But I have a day off, and Caramel Macchiatos are half price today."

Dan clutched his chest dramatically and pretended to swoon. "You sure know the way into my heart, mate."

Phil couldn't help but feel how true those words were, and by the soft smile on Dan's face, the brunette knew as well. "Just let me get ready first. I really need a shower and a shave."

"Sure do," the brunette quipped, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Giver of compliments, you are," Phil retorted, rolling his eyes. "But seriously, give me twenty minutes."

The brunette nodded. "No problem. I need to freshen up, myself. Don't take _too_ long, though. I bet you take, like, an hour to straighten your hair."

"Do _not_," Phil replied, sticking his tongue out. Dan looked at it with a smirk and, in a flash, Dan leaned forward and licked Phil's tongue. No kiss, just a small invasion of decency. Phil gasped anyway, heat flooding to his cheeks.

At Phil's stunned silence, Dan smirked. "Twenty minutes." And with that, the brunette got up and sashayed out of the living room and into the bedroom, leaving Phil openmouthed and wondering what just happened. Patron God of Confusion, indeed.

"Eighteen minutes," came a singsong voice from behind the closed door. Phil blinked slowly and made a mad dash to his apartment, the barest hint of cinnamon on his tongue as he tried to will away the depraved thoughts that filled his head. _I'm really in for it now._

OoO

Twenty minutes ("and forty-eight seconds!" Dan teased) later, both boys stood facing each other in the brightly lit hallway. Dan looked dapper in a deep mahogany sweater that clung to his form and dark blue skinny jeans. _Are all the pants he owns skinny jeans? _Phil mentally shrugged, seeing as how his wardrobe consisted of various shades of blue and black skinny jeans. Phil smiled at the thought. Today he decided to let Dan in on his dorky habits and wore a black t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and his favorite jacket that had a nebula pattern printed on its entirety. The approving smile Dan gave him made the ebony-haired boy flush.

"Ready?" Dan asked, still smiling.

"Yeah," Phil breathed, mirroring the smile.

They made small talk as they walked to the coffee shop. Phil shared quirky stories of his weird family, and Dan mostly listened. Dan told him that his family stopped talking to him long ago, but that it was okay because they were sort of assholes, anyway. Phil still felt a pang of guilt anyway.

The familiar smell of coffee assaulted his nostrils, and Phil breathed it in with a smile. _Home_. After waving away Dan's offers to pay, Phil led the brunette to the counter. He groaned when the barista turned around.

"Hiya, Phil! Hello, Mr. Dark and Mysterious!"

"Justine, could you act like a normal human being for once and _not_ embarrass me?" Phil sighed, rubbing at his forehead.

"Of course not! It's just so fun to get you riled up," the barista grinned. _Why does everyone keep saying that?_ Phil wondered.

"So you agree," Dan said, throwing a smile at Justine.

"Wholeheartedly."

"I think this is a start of a _beautiful_ friendship," the brunette smirked.

"Someone shoot me now," Phil groaned, rolling his eyes. He _was_ happy that they got along so well; Justine was a pretty awesome person and a big influence on his life. But she also had a lot of dirt on the ebony-haired boy, and he wasn't looking forward to her gossiping.

"Well, that depends on what _exactly_ you want to shoot up your—"

"_Coffee. Now_," Phil ground out, face heating up at both the words and the chuckle that fell from Dan's lips.

Seemingly satisfied with the level of Phil's embarrassment, the barista smiled sweetly. "And what would you like, _sir_?"

Phil ignored the sarcasm and sighed. "Two Caramel Macchiatos."

"Aren't you going to say please?"

"I will come to your house and murder you in your sleep."

"Good enough for me," the barista smirked and set about making their order.

"I _like_ her," Dan commented, amusement written on his features.

"I'm sure you _would_," Phil sighed. Dan was bad enough, but Justine had to gang up on him, too? Phil was beginning to rethink letting Dan meet her.

Soon the order arrived and both boys situated themselves in the same back table like before. Phil sipped his cup cautiously and, seeing as how the liquid didn't scorch his tongue, decided that it was safe enough to drink. In the comfortable silence that followed, Phil listened to the crowd around them and caught snippets of conversation. He always liked to people-watch, even though some found it a tad creepy. You could learn a lot about people just by observing, and Phil found relationship dynamics intriguing.

Dan's voice broke through Phil's concentration and made him look up. "People are so strange, aren't they?"

"How so?" Phil found himself asking, though he agreed with the sentiment.

"Well," Dan paused and thought. "They think the world revolves around them. Not in like an arrogant way, though many _are_ pretty narcissistic, but they like to have their own little worlds and bubbles. And then when someone comes into their life, and really gets in deep, they're forced to think about someone else, for a change. While change is good, people don't really like it and tend to want to go back into their shells, where they're safe and comfortable."

Phil thought for a moment. "Yeah, I guess that's true. But some people are really happy when they're with other people. Like, it makes them happier than being by themselves. No one really _wants_ to be alone, even if they say so. A life without anyone isn't really a life."

"But no one would hurt you," Dan said softly.

Phil knew what the conversation was _really_ about, and took a deep breath. Released it. "Yeah, but then you wouldn't feel the love from another. People can hurt you really terribly, and it's really horrible when it happens and you can't stop it from happening. But if you never open yourself up, and never take a chance, you won't know how wonderful some people are. There's more shitty people than not, yeah, but not everyone is an asshole."

"I'm beginning to find that out," Dan murmured softly, but Phil knew the younger boy meant for him to hear it. Butterflies ate at Phil's stomach and he had to swallow back the sudden rush of emotions that struck at his heart. Would he ever get used to this feeling that licked at his insides every time he was around the brunette?

Apparently not, because the shy smile that lit up Dan's face sent shockwaves down Phil's spine. He didn't know how much more of this he could take. _What's with the sudden emotions?_ He wondered. Maybe it was just the fact that Dan trusted him enough to risk scaring him off and share something so personal. It really touched Phil, and deepened his feelings for the brunette. This was all happening way too fast, but it felt so right to the ebony-haired boy that he didn't mind it in the least.

"What, do I have something on my face?" the brunette enquired, and Phil realized that he had been staring.

"No," Phil replied, a bright flush on his face. "I was just thinking."

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Phil didn't know how to respond to that. His feelings were getting far too deep too quickly, and he still wasn't sure how exactly Dan felt for him. Phil didn't want to scare him off, but he also didn't want to lie to the brunette. He opted for part of the truth (Dan didn't need to learn just how _much_ Phil was falling for him). "I'm just thinking about how this is happening very quickly; I barely have time to catch up with it."

"You're not regretting this, right?" the tone of worry in Dan's voice made Phil immediately rush to comfort him.

"No, definitely not," Phil assured. "I was just thinking of how attached I'm getting."

"To?" Dan's voice was laced with amusement, and Phil inwardly sighed in relief. This was better than the look of raw terror Dan briefly wore. Brown eyes still regarded him with the same sense of intensity despite the casual demeanor, however.

Phil stuttered a bit, cursing his tendency to get easily flustered. "Uh, you, I guess."

"You guess?" Dan teased, though the look of relief on his face was so palpable that Phil couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face.

"Yeah," Phil said honestly. "As long as you stop being a prick about it."

"I'm sure you would want my pri—"

"Don't even _finish_ that, you pervert. Please, for my sanity," Phil groaned, inwardly glad that the banter was back. He didn't mind talking about the heavy stuff, but there was only so much he could take. Phil couldn't stand the look on Dan's face when they talked about stuff like that. It made him want to touch the brunette, and that would lead to very dangerous things, indeed.

Dan's smirk made Phil flush. "Pussy."

"Don't use that word. It's rude."

"You know that only makes me want to say it even louder. In fact, I think I'll do just that," Dan took a deep breath. "PU—"

Phil reached across the table and clamped a hand over Dan's mouth. The light touch burned. "We're in public, you wanker."

Phil could feel Dan's smirk under his fingers and tried to ignore the feel of the brunette's warm lips against his hand. He tried for an intimidating glare, but wasn't very successful. "You need a filter."

Dan gripped Phil's wrist delicately and Phil's heart jumped. He hoped Dan couldn't feel his racing pulse (he probably could). Phil didn't resist when Dan peeled the hand off of his mouth. _What is he—oh._

A pink tongue wrapped around Phil's fingers and Dan toyed with the digits inside of his mouth. Phil's mouth became dry, his traitorous eyes watching in rapt fascination as they disappeared behind the brunette's lips. Dan suddenly released the fingers with a wet _pop._ Openmouthed, Phil hurriedly withdrew the hand as if it burned, clutching it to his chest and trying not to remember the feeling of Dan's tongue. "What…was _that?_"

"You had a bit of foam on your finger," was Dan's airy explanation, his voice innocent in tone. The intense look he shot Phil said otherwise, and the ebony-haired boy gulped audibly and tried to ignore the blood rushing to his groin.

"You could have just used a napkin," Phil murmured, his hand still clenching the fabric of his shirt tightly.

"Wouldn't be as effective," Dan said simply.

"We're in public," Phil tried helplessly.

"I know," Dan grinned. His face switched expressions as if realizing something. "You're not ashamed, are you?"

"What? No!" Phil gasped, shooting Dan a glare. "That's not what I meant. I just get embarrassed sometimes."

Dan's sudden smile melted Phil's heart. "Good. Because you're really so cute that I can't help these things."

"Is that a line?"

"Do you want it to be?"

Phil groaned and put a hand to his face, feeling his cheeks heat up even more. "You're insufferable."

"And you're hot," Dan retorted gleefully, a full-out grin marking his features.

"Am I interrupting something?" came a voice to their left. Phil couldn't decide whether or not to be relieved that Justine saved him, or worried that the new buddies would gang up on him.

"Yes, you—"

"_Did not_," Phil cut in, throwing Dan an exasperated look. The brunette smirked.

"Aw, you're already finishing each others' sentences, how cute!" the bane of Phil's existence cooed.

Phil groaned. "What do you want, Justine, other than giving me grey hair before my time?"

"I'd like to think that I'd give you purple hair, but whatever," Justine laughed, and Phil couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his lips. "But anyways, we're closing soon."

"What? It's that time already?" Phil brought out his cellphone and checked the time. _Almost seven._ A quick glance around the room informed him that he and Dan were the last two customers in the shop. Had they really been talking that long? "Wow, I didn't realize how late it was."

"Me, neither," Dan admitted, shrugging.

"I'd let you stay longer, but today's inventory," the barista sighed, casting a pained glance at the messy shop.

Phil winced. "Ouch. Sorry, mate." He turned to Dan. "Shall we?"

Dan nodded, and both males stood up from the table. "It was nice to see you again, Justine."

"Likewise," the girl smiled, for once not teasing. While she could be annoying when she wanted to be, Justine was still Phil's best friend. She didn't trust people too much, so it was a good sign that she warmed up to Dan so easily.

"I'll throw our cups away," Dan offered, and both Phil and Justine watched as the brunette walked over to the trash bin.

Justine turned to Phil, her voice soft and warm. "He treats you well, yeah?"

Phil smiled. "Yeah, I think."

"Good," she smiled warmly. Her tone turned teasing yet firm. "Because I really don't want to go to jail for hanging his pretty little insides up on a lamp post."

"Gross!" Phil gasped, slightly scandalized. He tried and failed to bite back his smile. "And that's good, because gray really _isn't_ your color."

"Could you _sound_ any more gay?" Justine joked, and they both cracked up.

"Did I miss something?" Dan asked curiously when he returned.

"Oh, nothing," Phil grinned.

"Just the fact that Phil is a total tart," Justine piped in gleefully.

"I should hope so," Dan drawled, a smirk on his lips. "If he wasn't, that would be a problem."

"I _like_ him," Justine giggled as Phil rolled his eyes. Her words reminded Phil that Dan had said the exact same thing, and the ebony-haired boy felt both a sense of accomplishment and a headache coming on.

"I am never, _ever_ putting you two in the same room again," Phil groaned. "C'mon, Dan, let's go."

"Toodle-oo!" Justine said cheerily, blowing them a kiss.

"Au revoir," Dan replied just as cheerily, returning the air-kiss enthusiastically as the two boys exited the shop.

"I don't know why I surround myself with such insane idiots," Phil murmured loudly enough for them both to hear. He pushed open the door and stepped out into the brisk night air, Dan trailing behind him.

"You know you really adore us," Dan laughed, and Phil wasn't sure if this was a test or just a careless remark.

Either way, he replied, "Yeah, unfortunately."

Dan's sudden smile shined brighter than the lamps lighting their way.

OoO

The weeks passed by at an alarming rate, and Phil grew closer to Dan each time they met. Dinner at Phil's became a 'thing' for them, and each night had Dan sitting at Phil's (now fixed) kitchen table, digging into his supper as he listened to Phil tell stories. Phil prided himself on his stories; he had many to tell, despite the fact that they usually involved other people rather than himself. Dan didn't seem to mind in the least, listening with rapt attention as Phil told him of things like the time his sister set fire to their Christmas tree, or the time Justine singed a hole in Phil's trousers by dropping a match.

Dan didn't share many stories about himself, and when Phil asked, Dan had shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I don't have many good ones to tell." Phil felt bad for the brunette, remembering the things he told Phil about his past. That was okay, though, because Phil had more than enough stories for the both of them.

Phil was both pleased and mildly embarrassed to discover that despite his past, Dan was definitely a touchy-feely kind of person. The brunette liked to show his affection with little caresses here and there, almost as if Phil would disappear without Dan touching him constantly. Phil didn't mind it at all, really. It took a little bit for him to become adjusted to all the affection, but Phil started to get pleasantly used to it. He even started to touch back, albeit more timidly. While Phil was incredibly shy when it came to romance, Dan's outgoing personality seemed to balance him out perfectly. The touches had yet to go beyond anything flirtatious, but they were a comfort to Phil nonetheless. Sex could wait; his relationship with Dan went beyond lust. Which was exactly Phil's problem.

Every day that he spent with the brunette only made him fall deeper into a pit he wasn't sure he could escape. Phil had never used the 'L' word before, but admitting to himself that his feelings ran deeper than just lust made the ebony-haired boy feel quite pleased. Justine certainly approved of Dan, and Phil had a feeling that the brunette was going to be a permanent fixture in both his home and his life. Being alone for most of his life, he unsurprisingly found no problem with this.

It was the day that Dan threw open the door first without knocking, that Phil knew he was completely and royally fucked. The brunette had raised an eyebrow at Phil's open-mouthed stare and quipped, eyes shining in amusement, "I can think of a million things I could fill your mouth with if you keep it open like that. But please, continue." The words only cemented the fact that Dan was here to stay, and Phil honestly couldn't be happier.

The day that Dan _did_ knock, however, made things come crashing down. Looking up from the plate he was setting, Phil felt a knot of fear coil up in his belly. He set the plate down in front of Dan's seat and walked over to the doorway, worry eating at his heart like worms.

When Phil opened the door, his first thought was: _Dan looks like shit_. Because it was true: Dan looked horrible. The brunette's soft hair stuck up all over the place, as if a hand ran through it too many times. Trails of tear-streaks marked Dan's usually glowing face, and the steely look in Dan's eyes set Phil instantly on edge.

"Shit, Dan, what's wrong?" Phil asked worriedly, wanting to touch the brunette but not knowing if it was the best of actions right now.

"Can we please just get inside?" Dan's voice was flat and emotionless, and it cut Phil to the bone. Never had he heard Dan sound like that, and it made Phil terrified. _Something really bad must have happened._

"Yeah, sure," Phil said awkwardly, ushering the brunette in and touching his back hesitantly. The brunette's flinch was like an icy bucket over Phil's head.

Dan went straight for the couch and instantly curled up on it, avoiding Phil's gaze entirely. In the back of Phil's mind, he was thankful that he hadn't even started to cook yet. Phil had a feeling this was going to take a while. He sat down gingerly on the other side of the couch and tried not to let panic creep into his voice. "What happened?"

"Do you have any tea?" Dan asked instead of answering. Dan knew that Phil always had tea, and even knew where it was kept. Dan was stalling, and Phil decided to let him. Pushing the brunette would probably make things worse.

Phil got up and filled the kettle with shaking hands, trying to calm the beating in his heart. Dan was _never_ like this. Whatever this was, it must have been horrible to make the usually exuberant boy look like a ghost of a person. Phil hoped that he could bring back the _old_ Dan, the one that laughed and teased and flirted. Anything but this.

The whining of the kettle interrupted Phil's thoughts and made him jump. He berated himself for thinking so dramatically. Maybe it was just a bad day for Dan. Like, a _really_ bad day. Phil had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't just that.

Once the Earl Gray was prepared, Phil walked back to the couch, two steaming cups in his hands. He held one out to Dan, who accepted the offered drink with a small thanks. The remaining cup burned in Phil's hand as he waited for Dan to speak first.

A few minutes passed, and Phil almost thought that Dan didn't want to speak at all. Just when Phil was about to ask why, Dan whispered, "It's the day."

"What day?" Phil asked curiously.

"The day _he_ died," was Dan's simple reply, and a sheet of ice wrapped around Phil's heart. The ebony-haired boy forced himself to breathe evenly.

"Want to talk about it?" Phil offered, feeling helpless and useless.

"No," Dan barked out a laugh that hurt Phil's ears. "But I'm going to have to."

"I'm not going to force it out of you, if that's what you think," Phil murmured, slightly stung. He knew Dan didn't mean it, but it still hurt to hear those words. "We don't have to talk if you don't want to. I have, like, five gigabytes of silly cat videos if you want to watch any."

The twitch of Dan's mouth, although tiny, kindled newfound hope in Phil. Maybe Dan could be reached, after all. Phil tried to smile reassuringly, his hands itching to reach out and touch Dan but his mind knowing that it would probably be worse if he did. So he waited, and hoped that Dan would talk.

His patience paid off, because it only took two and a half minutes for it all to come spilling out. "I really shouldn't miss the bastard, I know. He deserves to be dead…Wait, no. That came out wrong. No one deserves to die, because that's sad and horrible. What I meant was, he was a right asshole and I shouldn't miss him, but I do. A lot. That's fucked up, right? But that doesn't mean it's any less true.

"It's been a year since he died; I should have moved on. It wasn't like he treated me like a human being, anyway. It's just…" Dan trailed off, running his fingers through his hair and groaning in frustration. His next words sounded so broken that Phil's chest tightened up immediately. "I loved him, Phil. I fucking _loved_ him. He took years away from me, and I still haven't erased his number from my phone. It's like I expect him to call me up or something, like he just pulled a really horrible joke."

Dan's laugh was something between a startled cry and a strangled sob. It hurt Phil's ears and heart to hear it. Seemingly finished, Dan stared out the window as raindrops started to slide down the screen. Phil took a breath and released it, unsure of what to say. He tried feebly, "But you're here, aren't you? You survived, even if he didn't. I know that you're hurting, and that's okay. It's not like there's a magical button to make things all right. I just wish I knew how to help you, because it hurts to see you like this."

"There's a way you can help me," Dan said so quietly that Phil had to strain his ears to hear him. The brunette turned to Phil and the older boy gulped at the intense look in Dan's eyes. "Make love to me."

"What?" Phil started to say, but suddenly he found himself pinned to the edge of the sofa and his mouth occupied. Phil groaned and his hands came up to clutch at Dan's waist. The brunette's arms slid around Phil's neck and Dan growled deep in his throat. _Is this really happening?_ Phil felt as if he were floating.

It was then that he tasted the alcohol on Dan's tongue. Phil froze like someone had just splashed him with a bucket of frigid water. Guilt gnawed at his insides and he did the only thing he could have done.

"No," Phil whispered against Dan's lips, untangling his hands from Dan's hair and gently pushing Dan away. The look of hurt and confusion in the brunette's eyes made Phil feel guilty, but this was something he had to do. "Not like this. I don't want our first time to be because of _him_. It wouldn't feel right."

Dan remained silent, a frown on his face, but the guilty look in his eyes let Phil know that the brunette understood. Phil went on, sighing. "Now we're going to get you cleaned up, and you're going to sleep here tonight. Please don't argue with me."

Dan looked at Phil for a moment and sighed in resignation. "Yeah, okay. You're probably right."

Phil gave Dan a smile that the brunette hesitantly mirrored. "Okay, good. You probably know where the shower is, given that our apartments are twins. Feel free to take as many blankets as you want."

Dan nodded, and he slowly got up from the couch and left the room. Phil got up and put the empty cups away in the sink. It felt like he was running on autopilot, like he was too emotionally drained to even _think_. For once. He barely registered hearing the shower stop and didn't know Dan had finished until he heard the brunette clear his throat.

Phil looked up to see Dan shifting awkwardly, looking absolutely adorable in Phil's black pajamas. "I, erm, borrowed your PJ's."

Phil smiled. "I can see that."

Dan looked over to the couch, which Phil vaguely remembered setting up with a pillow and blankets. "You're sleeping out here?"

"Yeah," Phil answered, shrugging. "I didn't want to pressure you or anything."

"Sleep with me?" the brunette pleaded softly. Phil's breath caught at the suddenly vulnerable look in Dan's eyes. "We don't have to, erm, do anything. I just need you next to me. Please."

"Yeah," Phil agreed softly. He knew how hard it was for Dan to admit something like that, and he felt honored. "Just let me get some PJ's."

Dan's face lit up, and it was the younger boy's first real smile of the evening. Phil's heart clenched and he found himself smiling back. "I'll just wait out here, then."

"Good idea," Phil said somewhat awkwardly, and he walked to his bedroom and closed the door.

He quickly got dressed in a dark blue t-shirt and black pajama bottoms, and soon both boys were situated on the queen-sized bed and buried under the covers. Phil tried to stay awake, but the night's emotional confessions made him bone-tired. He felt his eyes slip shut of their own accord.

The last thing he remembered before drifting off to sleep was Dan's murmured, "Thanks", and the feeling of soft hands caressing his face.

OoO

Phil woke up to an empty bed and he panicked. _Did he leave?_ The smell of bacon and eggs wafting in from the kitchen said otherwise, and Phil sighed in relief. He sat up and stretched, a small groan falling from his lips as he worked out the kinks in his body. He looked at the closed door and wondered what awaited him behind the white wood. Breakfast was a good sign, at least. Phil rose from the bed and walked over to the door, pausing and steeling himself for the conversation that would follow. He breathed deeply and turned the handle.

"Morning," Phil greeted sleepily when he came into the kitchen.

"Morning," Dan replied cheerily, his back to Phil as he stirred eggs around in the pan. When he turned around and threw Phil a smile, Phil searched his face for any signs of pain. When he found none, Phil smiled back and walked over to inspect the stove.

"You can cook?" he teased gently, testing the waters.

"Surprised?" Dan grinned. "Yeah, I can. It's just that you're better at it and I'm a mooch."

"At least you're honest," Phil laughed, and Dan joined in. Any tension from the previous night vanished, and Phil relaxed, wrapping his arm around Dan's waist and putting his chin on the brunette's shoulder. "Smells good."

"Good, because you're eating it whether it's edible or not," Dan said mock-sternly.

"Wouldn't dream of anything else," Phil smiled, grateful that their banter was back. Yesterday felt like a bad dream, and Phil had a feeling that things would be all right again. "Your eggs are burning a little, though."

Dan cursed and flipped said eggs over. Phil laughed and pulled away from Dan, reaching into the cabinet and pulling out some plates. It felt so _good_ for things to be normal again. Phil knew that they would eventually have to talk about what happened last night, but that wasn't a conversation for breakfast.

Dan was right; he was actually a pretty good cook. Phil shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth, pausing every so often to take a big sip of his orange juice. Phil didn't notice Dan's stare until he looked up. "Yeah?"

"You look like you're enjoying yourself," Dan commented, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"It's good, and I'm hungry," Phil replied, blushing faintly. "We didn't really have dinner last night."

_Uh-oh._ Guilt gnawed at Phil's insides when he saw Dan wince. He hurriedly added, "But that's okay. There were more important things to do."

Dan looked down, avoiding Phil's worried gaze. "It's okay, you don't need to explain yourself. I'm sorry about last night."

Phil sighed and pushed his nearly empty plate away. So much for saving the conversation until _after_ breakfast. At least they had both eaten most of their food. "No, don't apologize. You were just feeling pain, and there's really no right way to react to something like that. It's not your fault."

"But I feel like an asshole," Dan muttered, biting his lip.

"Hey, look at me," Phil said firmly. When Dan raised his eyes, Phil saw the pain lurking in their depths. "You were just reacting, and it's natural to want comfort like that. It's not that I didn't want you; it's just that I didn't want it to be for the wrong reasons. Understand?"

Dan nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Now that I'm more clear-headed, I'm glad we didn't do it like that."

"People only have power over you if you let them," Phil murmured, recalling a conversation he had with his mother ages ago. He briefly wondered how she was doing. It'd been so long since he talked to her. He resolved to call her more frequently and then focused on the conversation. "But yeah, I'm always here to listen if you need it."

"Thanks, Phil," Dan smiled. Phil returned it, albeit a goofier one. He still couldn't get over the way Dan said his name, the way it sounded on the younger boy's lips. He bit his lip slightly as his mind wandered and though of _other_ things the brunette could be doing with his lips.

"No problem," Phil breathed, trying to calm the slight blush on his features. Dan looked oddly at him for a second, but apparently decided not to comment. "So what're we going to do today?"

Dan looked at him guiltily. "I have to work, actually. I've been putting off a big assignment, and my editor is just about ready to have my balls. Sorry, mate."

Phil ignored the images associated with the phrase and frowned slightly. He tried not to let the disappointment creep into his voice. "Oh, okay. I have to work, too, so it's no problem."

"I can probably still do dinner, if you wanted," Dan offered. "Once I'm in the zone, it doesn't take me long to write. _I_ could even cook, to make it up to you."

Phil laughed, relieved. "Yeah, I'd like to see that."

"Prick. I just made you breakfast and you didn't die, yeah?" Dan said sternly, but Phil could tell the brunette was trying to hold back a smile.

"I don't know, breakfast is pretty hard to mess up," Phil teased. Dan stuck out his tongue playfully, and Phil had to swallow down his indecent thoughts. He'd been having a lot of those, lately. Stupid sexual frustration. "But seriously. I'd love it if you cooked for me."

"Good, because I make a great chicken noodle soup," Dan smiled. He then added, "And _don't_ make any wisecracks about cans. I make it from scratch, asshole."

"I didn't say anything," Phil said, making a zipping motion across his lips.

"Yeah, but you were _thinking_ it."

"So now I'm getting in trouble for my thoughts?" Phil joked.  
"You get in trouble for _existing_," Dan said mock-seriously. The image was ruined when a giggle escaped his mouth, and soon both boys were laughing.

"I love you," slipped from Phil's lips before he could stop it. Dan fell silent, his eyes wide. Phil clamped a hand over his mouth, mildly horrified at himself. He meant every word, but Dan was easy to scare away and Phil really wanted him to stay. _Shit_.

There was a pregnant pause, but eventually Dan spoke, his voice soft. "Do you mean that?"

"Yes," Phil said in a low voice, just as softly. It was entirely true, and hardly a surprise. During the few weeks that he had come to know Dan, Phil found himself quite enamored with the brunette. The more he spent time with the younger boy, the deeper he fell, until Phil couldn't possibly imagine life without Dan. He just hoped he didn't scare the brunette away.

Dan's sudden smile lit up his face so brightly that Phil's heart stuttered at the sight. "I do, too. Love you, I mean."

And there it was. Dan loved him. _He loves me. He fucking loves me._ Phil's heart beat into overdrive, and he did the only thing he _could_ do. He leaned across the table and captured Dan's lips in a heated kiss.

It wasn't soft, and it wasn't hard: Just the perfect balance of intensity and playfulness. Dan tasted like cinnamon and bacon, and Phil's head swam. He had to grip the table for stability, his knuckles turning white in the process, but he didn't care. All that mattered was the brunette in front of him, moaning into the kiss like he couldn't get enough.

_Yo,_ _I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want…_ The song blasted Phil's ears, and both boys broke apart reluctantly. Dan raised a dark eyebrow, looking sexy in wet, bruised lips and a flush on his face. "Spice girls?"

"Justine," Phil said by way of explanation, trying to calm his breathing and his heart. "She'll keep calling until I pick up. She's like that."

"Pity," was all Dan said, and Phil cursed the barista's horrific timing. Trust the blonde to ruin their moment.

Phil sighed inwardly and retrieved his phone, taking a deep breath and saying, "Hi, you utter waste of air."

Dan and Justine giggled in unison, though they couldn't hear each other. _Creepy_. "I wasn't interrupting something, was I?"

"No more so than usual," Phil sighed. "What do you want?"

"Ooh, I must have _really_ interrupted something for you to be this mean."

"Shove it, Justine. What's up?"

"You're _late_," the barista said, her tone turning serious. "And dragon lady is breathing down my neck. So if you could kindly get your hands out of your boyfriend's pants, I could use another target for her anger."

"They weren't—" Phil started, but he knew that there was no use arguing with Justine. "Yeah, sorry. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Good," Justine said cheerily. "Because you owe me big time for this. I want pictures!"

Phil groaned and hung up without saying a word. He turned to Dan. "Sorry, I gotta bounce. I totally forgot I have to be at work now."

Amusement lit up Dan's eyes and he smiled. "Yeah, I should probably get to work, as well."

"Sorry," Phil repeated as Dan stood up.

"No problem," Dan said, flashing Phil another smile as he reached down to kiss his cheek. "By the way, I heard everything she said."

Phil groaned. "Fuck."

"We'll get to that later," Dan said, and it sounded like a promise. The brunette smirked as Phil's cheeks heated. "But, for now, time to work. Later, love."

Phil smiled at the nickname. He wished he could be that bold. "Yeah, seeya."

Phil watched as Dan sashayed away, giving Phil a glorious view of his ass. Fuck, he needed to get rid of these perverted thoughts. He briefly remembered that Dan borrowed his pajamas, but he didn't really care at all. Besides, Dan looked rather cute in them. He smiled and set about getting ready for work.

OoO

"So, spill."

"What?" Phil asked dazedly, looking at the girl next to him.

"You look like you just won the gay Olympics or something," Justine teased. "So something must have happened."

"That's a really weird analogy, but okay," Phil said, looking at her oddly for a second. Then he summoned up his courage and told her everything. He didn't leave anything out, even the part where Dan came onto him.

She looked at him evenly when Phil told his story, silent for a change. When the ebony-haired boy was finished, she smiled. "I'm so jealous right now."

"What?" Phil asked for the second time, feeling out of the loop. "No snarky comment?"

"Not this time," she sighed wistfully. "It's just that I'm so envious that you're found something like that. Dan's an awesome person, and I'm so glad you guys are happy together. You should _see_ the way your face lights up when you talk about him. It's like Christmas or something. I'm really happy for you."

"Erm, thanks," Phil said, touched at his friend's words. Beneath the sarcasm, Justine was actually an awesome person. Phil wouldn't be friends with her otherwise. Though he had many friends around the city, none of them came close to the level of friendship he and Justine had.

"You know," Justine murmured offhand. "I used to have such a crush on you."

"Really?" Phil asked, his mouth agape slightly.

"Yeah," she said. "That was until I found out you were impossibly queer and I never had a chance with you."

"Sorry," Phil muttered, feeling guilty all of a sudden. He was honored that she liked him that much, but he knew what unrequited love was like.

"Don't be. It wouldn't have worked out anyway," Justine said, shrugging. "I just hope this doesn't make anything awkward."

"You _do_ realize we're practically the epitome of awkward, right?" Phil quipped.

"Maybe _you_ are, but I'm more the embodiment of grace and culture," Justine sniffed.

Phil snorted. "We'd really have to redefine 'culture', then."

"Oi," Justine laughed, elbowing Phil in the ribs none-too-lightly. "Shut it, you."

They broke into laughter, the tension falling away just like that. Phil smiled. Maybe if he were straight, he would probably go for Justine. She practically knew him better than he knew himself, and she was pretty cute. But that's just not how things worked out. She was such a good sport, and Phil was glad to have her on his side.

The rest of the day went much like that, with him and Justine playfully insulting each other while trying not to spill coffee on patrons. Phil prided himself on the fact that he only spilled coffee one time. It might have been slightly on purpose, though, because the lady really was a bitch and he couldn't help but _accidentally_ pour the (lukewarm, if it counts) coffee on her Pepto-Bismol pink cat jacket. The reaming he got from his manager was _so_ worth it, though. All in all, it was a pretty good day.

OoO

"You don't need to knock," Dan reminded Phil when he opened his door at precisely 6 o'clock.

"I know, but I was just trying to be polite," Phil shrugged.

"What, Justine finally beat some manners into you?" Dan teased.

"Prick," Phil groaned but his words lacked any heat.

"So many jokes, so little time," Dan chuckled, and stepped out of the way. "You gonna come in, or what?"

"Sometimes I wonder why I even bother," Phil muttered, but the words were playful. He brushed past Dan and entered the apartment.

He still couldn't get used to the eerie familiarity of the layout, though the furnishings were not his own. Since his first time in the apartment, the place had filled out and now looked completely livable. Phil wasn't lying when he said he had connections, and they managed to find some perfect pieces for a great price. Phil knew by now that Dan liked dark colors, so much of the furniture was a deep mahogany or chocolate color. Phil felt especially proud of his favorite pick, a cushiony brown couch whose pillows seemed to suck you in every time you sat down. Phil had to smile at the Laser-Cat painting, though.

"Because you love me?" came Dan's voice, and Phil turned around. He had almost forgotten about their conversation. He replayed it in his head and saw at the unreadable look in Dan's eyes.

"Yeah," he said, and Dan smiled brilliantly. "But probably because you're a total asshole and I find that strangely endearing."

"I hope that was a compliment," Dan said, his eyes gazing at Phil softly despite the teasing tone.

"It was," Phil smiled. His stomach suddenly growled and he blushed, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "Work was so busy today that I forgot to eat lunch."

"Well, you've come to the right place," Dan said, eyes sparkling. "Soup's just about done."

"I'll get the plates," Phil offered.

"Okay, sounds good," Dan said, smiling. "You know where they are."

"Yeah, in the drawer beneath the oven. You keep things in really weird places, you know," Phil teased, walking over to the kitchen and bending down to retrieve the bowls.

Dan didn't reply immediately and Phil frowned. He retrieved the plates and stood back up. Dan's eyes were glazed over, and he had a smirk on his face. _Oh._ "Were you just staring at my ass?"

"Well, you couldn't blame me," Dan said innocently. "I mean, it was right there."

"Yeah, right," Phil muttered loud enough for Dan to hear. "Pervert."

"You knew what you were getting into," Dan smirked in amusement. His eyes took an unreadable expression, though, and Phil gulped.

"Yeah," he whispered, deciding against a snarky comment this time. "I knew."

They stared at each other for a minute until the timer went off on the stove. Dan reached over to switch the stove off, his arm brushing against Phil's along the way. Electric currents zipped along Phil's skin and he tried not to moan. Sexual frustration was stupid and shouldn't exist.

Phil focused instead on getting his bowl of soup while trying to steady his shaking hands. Really, what was _with_ him today? Maybe it was the fact that they had both admitted their feelings for each other, and Phil's emotions (and apparently his body, too) were running high. He sat down at the kitchen table, and Dan followed suit.

The boys ate in a comfortable silence—at least, probably for Dan. Phil was hyper-aware of the brunette as their thighs touched under the table. Dan chose to move his chair next to Phil, and while Phil was glad for the comfort, his nerves felt too alive for him to concentrate. He took a sip of his delicious meal (Dan wasn't kidding about his soup-making skills) and tried not to think about the body heat emanating from the brunette's legs.

Both boys finished, and Phil helped Dan clear away and wash the dishes. Soon they were seated on the comfortable couch beside each other. Phil wondered if maybe the other night set things in motion for his little mind. The weeks before, he hadn't really thought much about sex; it took a backburner from getting to know each other and the emotional catharses they quickly became for one other. But after last night, after Dan had kissed him with less than pure intentions, Phil was forced to think about things in a different manner. Like how Dan's Adams apple bobbed every time he swallowed, and the stretch of skin that Dan bared whenever he reached down for something. It was driving Phil insane, and he really didn't think it could be helped.

Dan suddenly changed positions, leaning over Phil and effectively trapping him against the arm of the couch. Phil gulped. "What're you doing?"

"What do you _think_?" was Dan's husky reply, and he stared down at Phil with a mixture of lust and amusement clouding his eyes. Phil didn't have time to reply, as warm lips covered his own and a hand reached to tug at his hair. The kiss was slow yet intense, and Dan's tongue lazily swept at Phil's bottom lip. Eyes sliding shut, Phil opened his mouth and their tongues wrapped around each other. There was no battle for dominance; just a slow and sensual teasing that made Phil groan into the kiss.

Dan broke the kiss and Phil whimpered slightly, his eyes opening. "What was _that_ for?"

"You really talk too much," Dan whispered, a smile tugging at his lips. Dan leaned down for another kiss, this one shorter than the last. Pulling away, Dan teasingly pulled Phil's bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it gently before releasing it. Phil groaned, and Dan kissed him again, harder this time.

"Are you sure?" Phil asked, his head swimming and his eyes turning blurry.

"Completely," Dan assured him, looking into Phil's eyes to prove his sincerity. Lust glazed over Dan's eyes, but Phil could see the trust within the chocolate orbs. It erased all doubt within his mind and made him feel surprisingly light. Dan trusted him, even with his horrible past. It touched Phil, and he smiled.

"Okay," Phil whispered, reaching up to capture Dan's lips. The brunette smiled into the kiss and slipped his hands underneath the older boy's shirt. Phil shivered as the touches send tingles all over his body and blood rushing to his groin. Slowly Dan lifted Phil's shirt up, pausing the kiss in order to slip it off.

Dan slid off of Phil, and the ebony-haired boy looked up questioningly. Dan shrugged out of his shirt and reached for something in his pocket. He drew out a bottle with crimson-colored liquid and Phil had to smile as he read, 'Cherry' on the label.

"Presumptuous, much?" Phil teased breathlessly.

The brunette shrugged. "More like hopeful."

That made Phil's heart go into overdrive, and he failed to hide his goofy smile. "You're crazy, you know that?"

"So are you," Dan shot back, smiling.

"Never said I wasn't," Phil laughed, and it turned into a breathy moan as Dan suddenly straddled Phil.

Dan wasted no time in undoing the button on Phil's jeans and unzipping the fly, slipping off both Phil's pants and boxers with practiced ease. Phil blushed, feeling self-conscious as Dan's eyes roamed his form. The wolf-whistle didn't help things much, and only made Phil's cheeks heat up even more.

"You're like a God," Dan said eventually, smiling. "A really sexy one."

Phil rolled his eyes. _Says the patron God of Confusion._

"What?" Dan asked, blinking.

_Shit._ Had he said that out loud? "Never mind. Please, continue with what you were doing."

"Gladly," the brunette breathed, leaning up to kiss Phil fully on the lips. His hand snuck down Phil's body, tracing an invisible path on Phil's skin that felt like icy flames. Dan teased with the patch of hair just above Phil's member, tugging a little and smiling into the kiss as Phil moaned slightly. He pulled back, grinning. "We'll explore that later."

Phil's breathing hitched as suddenly a warm hand wrapped around his throbbing member. Dan started stroking, spreading precum all over Phil's shaft to help with the rough ministrations. The hand felt _so_ good, and Phil could barely form a sentence other than whispering Dan's name.

Then Dan flicked his wrist in a way that made Phil cry out, heat coiling in his belly. He urgently grabbed Dan's wrist and breathed out, "Stop, or I'm gonna…"

Dan's reply was a slight nod, and he removed his hand. Sitting up, the brunette hastily undid his jeans and slipped the fabric down over his hips. He used a hand to steady himself as he leaned down and kicked off both his boxers and his pants.

Phil bit his lip and raked his eyes over Dan's body, and the brunette let him. Dan was so beautiful, so breathtaking. He wasn't perfect, and it was the imperfections that made him so beautiful. Dan had freckles everywhere, which was completely adorable. Phil could see a few small, white scars in random places, and he wondered about them. Dan would tell him in time, though, he knew. It wasn't now, though.

Phil lifted himself up more properly and grabbed Dan by the hips, pulling him closer. Dan raised a questioning eyebrow, but lightly gasped when Phil leaned in and kissed one of the pale marks on Dan's chest. The brunette whimpered slightly when Phil moved to kiss another one, on his ribcage. Phil proceeded to kiss all of the scars he could see, and the only sound in the room was Dan's heavy breathing and intermittent whimpers.

When Phil finally looked up at Dan, the brunette was smiling at him softly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You're the most amazing person I know and I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"I should be saying the same," Phil whispered. It was completely corny, but it was the truth and Phil meant it with every fiber of his being. "I'm so glad I met you."

"Me, too," the brunette agreed, smiling even wider. "But I'm really horny right now, so we should probably get on with it."

Phil groaned and rolled his eyes. "Forget what I said. You're the absolute worst."

Dan giggled. "Yeah, aren't I?"

Phil laughed, but it quickly turned into a moan when Dan suddenly leaned forward and pushed his hips into Phil's. Their members slid over each other and Phil felt his breath quicken. His nerves were on fire from Dan's previous actions, and he groaned again as he reached up to kiss the brunette. The familiar taste of cinnamon filled his senses and a tongue inserted itself lazily into Phil's open mouth.

Dan pulled back slightly, a heavy look in his eyes. "It's your first time, yeah?"

Phil blushed and nodded. "Yeah."

"I wish it was mine," Dan said softly, but when Phil opened his mouth to say something, Dan shook his head. "It's okay, I was just thinking out loud. You trust me, right?"

"Completely," Phil replied honestly.

"Okay, good," Dan smiled. "Tell me if you want to stop, and I'll listen. Now lift up your knees to your chest."

_Like I would _ever_ want this to stop,_ Phil found himself thinking as he obeyed. He barely registered the sound of the bottle opening until he felt a pressure down at his entrance. He automatically tensed as he felt Dan's slicked-up finger enter him, but willed himself to relax as Dan whispered soothing words. It felt a little weird as the digit curled around inside of him, but he quickly became used to the feeling of the intrusion. A gasp fell from his lips as Dan found _that _spot, and he groaned loudly. Many attempts of self-exploration made him familiar with that spot, but to have someone else doing the touching was just so much better. His eyes closed and he whispered, "_There_."

A light show appeared in the darkness of his eyelids as Dan curled his finger again and again, hitting the bundle of nerves each time. Too caught up in pleasure, he barely registered the stretching sensation as a second and third finger entered him.

Dan suddenly pulled his fingers out and Phil whimpered at the loss, but he moaned as he felt something _better_ push up against his entrance. Phil's eyes opened and he stared up at Dan. A sense of apprehension gripped him, but he forced himself to calm down and breathe. This was _Dan_. He wouldn't hurt him.

"You okay?" Dan asked, his eyes questioning. "We really don't have to do this."

Phil rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want it, idiot."

Dan nodded and bit his lip. "Okay, geeze. I was just trying to be nice."

"What I need right now is the opposite of nice," Phil said, his voice slightly rough. It was somewhat between a retort and horrendous dirty talk, but Phil couldn't be expected to be good at it his first time.

Dan didn't seem to mind, as his eyes darkened and he leaned in to press a kiss to Phil's forehead. "Message received, love."

Dan slowly pushed into Phil, and the older boy had to bite back a whimper. Phil would be lying if he said it didn't hurt like fuck. He felt dense, like his body was a hundred pounds heavier. His body burned as it tried to accommodate this new intrusion, his walls contracting around Dan's member as they stretched impossibly tight. Phil had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out.

"You okay?" came Dan's worried voice from above him. Phil hadn't realized that he had closed his eyes. The ebony-haired boy opened them.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Phil reassured. "It just feels a tad weird."

"Just a _tad_?" Dan teased.

"I'm glad you can still joke around when you're inside of me."

"I must not be doing it right if you can still speak in complete sentences," Dan smiled, and Phil chuckled. He felt Dan's member even more so when his body moved, and it was a really weird feeling. He shifted slightly, adjusting himself and trying to get used to this new feeling.

"Okay," he breathed. "I think I'm good."

"All right," Dan murmured, and he suddenly pulled out.

Phil looked at him questioningly, but then his mouth fell open as Dan rolled his hips and crashed into Phil. God, it felt so _good_. Pain morphed into pleasure as Dan pushed into Phil, and each thrust made Phil's nerves sing even more. He reached for something, anything to grab, and settled on clutching Dan's shoulders, his fingernails digging into the soft skin. He briefly wondered why they never did this before; it was so _amazing_.

They fell into a heated rhythm, moans falling from their lips in beat to the imagined song. Dan's name became a prayer that Phil repeated over and over as he clung onto the brunette for dear life, as if the boy would disappear if Phil didn't call out for him. Dan was very loud, and Phil discovered that despite his being shy, Phil himself was very vocal as well. It didn't help that Dan found his prostate again, and repeatedly hit the bundle of nerves with every thrust.

Phil felt heat pool in his belly and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His body felt as if flames licked at him all over, and sparks started to tingle all over his skin. He hurriedly began to palm himself sloppily, somehow timing his strokes to Dan's thrusts. Picking up the hint, the brunette increased his pace.

Phil barely had time to bite out a warning to Dan as he came all over his palm and Dan's stomach. Little shockwaves of pleasure took over his body as he rode out his orgasm, continuing to palm himself messily. His instinct took over, and he whispered encouraging words to Dan as his orgasm faded away. It took only a few seconds, but soon Dan bit his lip and groaned loudly, filling Phil completely as he came.

Dan's movements slowed down and eventually stilled, and then he slipped out of Phil slowly. Phil felt a small bit of liquid beading down his thighs, and groaned inwardly at the thought of cleaning the couch later. _So worth it, though_. Dan collapsed onto Phil, and both boys struggled to catch their breaths.

Running a hand through his sweaty fringe, Dan grimaced. "You're going to clean my couch."

"Excuse me?" Phil asked incredulously, openmouthed. "This is in no way my fault. _You_ came onto me, both literally and metaphorically."

"Did I, now?" Dan asked while raising a dark eyebrow. Phil wondered how the brunette could keep his composure after something like this, but the bright flush on Dan's cheeks said that the younger boy wasn't entirely unaffected.

"Prick," Phil muttered, but the words were playful and lacked heat.

"You really need to stop using that word, because you're basically _inviting_ me to make a perverse joke," Dan said, grinning. He raised his hand and pushed aside Phil's bangs. "You look really cute when you come, you know."

Phil felt his cheeks heat up. "I wasn't aware."

"Well, now you are," Dan's grin melted into a soft smile. "Was that all right?"

"Better than all right," Phil corrected, mirroring Dan's smile. The ebony-haired boy shifted, and then cringed at the sting of pain coming from his backside. He waved off the brunette's worried look. "I'm fine. I just wish I didn't have to go to work tomorrow."

"You have to go in?" Dan asked, amusement lighting up his eyes. His next words were unrepentant. "Oh dear, I hope I haven't ruined your ability to walk_._"

Phil groaned. "Justine's gonna have a _field_ day with this one, considering that I can't feel my buttocks enough to move properly."

"I'm sure you'll be fine by tomorrow, you pussy," Dan said playfully, rolling his eyes.

Phil winced. "I wish you wouldn't say that word."

"What, tomorrow?" Dan teased. "Or pussy?"

Phil groaned. "Both."

"You can't stop me," Dan challenged, and Phil knew that the brunette was absolutely right. Phil could, however, shut him up temporarily.

Dan tasted like cinnamon and promise. Senses heightened by their previous actions, Phil focused on the feel of the brunette's lips sliding against his own. _This is total bliss_, he thought, his eyelids heavy and his eyes slipping shut of their own accord. He barely registered when Dan broke the kiss, his mind drifting into sleep.

"Oi, not on my couch, idiot," he heard Dan say softly through the fog in his mind, but he heard the smile in the brunette's voice. "Plus, we're all messy."

"Don't care," Phil muttered, suddenly exhausted.

He heard Dan chuckle and felt a soft hand caressing his face. "You're so weird, you know that?"

"Takes one," Phil said sleepily.

"True. Okay, fine, but just for a few minutes," the brunette acquiesced, his body slumping against Phil's. Giving a contented sigh, Dan nuzzled into Phil's neck and placed a small kiss on the ebony-haired boy's collarbone.

Phil never felt so peaceful. Meeting Dan was the best thing that happened to him, in so many ways. Despite Dan's past…Actually, no, _because_ of it, Phil thought of Dan as the strongest person he knew. Phil felt immensely happy that Dan decided to share so much with the older boy, that he trusted Phil enough to let him into his world. A smile on his face, Phil felt the familiar tug of sleep. The gentle sound of Dan's breathing lulled him into a deep slumber that lasted a good while longer than 'a few minutes'.

"Love you," came Dan's sleepy murmur beside his ear.

"You, too," Phil breathed.

_Phil knocked on the red door, waiting patiently for someone to open it. When it became clear that no one was home, he sighed, shrugging, and placed the package on the ground next to the welcome mat._

_ As soon as he turned to leave, he heard the jingle of a chain and the sound of the door being opened. He looked back and saw the most absolutely gorgeous boy in front of him. Tall and slender, the stranger had honey-dipped skin and legs that could go on for days. He wore a black jumper and skinny jeans, and the look surprisingly suited him. Peeking out from underneath a chocolate-brown fringe, the boy's hazel eyes regarded him warily. "Can I help you?"_

Yeah, Phil thought, you _can._

OoO


End file.
